As some of you know, I’m a long-standing member of a running forum. I joined in 2005, and I consider many people I’ve met from there to be some of my very best friends. Some have been to my home, I’ve been to some of their homes, I’ve run races with them, I’ve gone to baseball games with them, one of them drove over a giant dead thing with my car on a road trip to Georgia (NO I WILL NOT EVER FORGET THAT), I’ve met and hugged your kids, I’ve been in a wedding, and I’ve been to two others. Some of you I’ve never even met. (Yeh, I changed it so I’m now talking to you. Yes, YOU. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.) I’ve cried on shoulders, and I’ve had people cry on mine. I’ve had someone talk me out of killing myself, and I’ve tried to help people when their lives felt hopeless. I hope I helped, and y’all can always call me if you need me. I’ll do what I can. And if you’re one of the people who’ve helped me when I needed it, I hope you know how much I appreciate it and how much I love you.
I first joined the forum at the suggestion of my Dad back in 2005 or so. It was hilarious at times (“I love big cock,” I replied to a thread about saying something out of character (my nickname was Prudence), and my Dad replied “ELIZABETH.” Much hilarity ensued, and good times were had by all). Over time, I decided to join the Women’s section of the forum, and hoo boy, women can have their moments. Some women left the forum forever, but I’ve remained friends with so many of them as well. After we ran something like 200 miles together over the course of 2.5 days, we’ve had breakfast when you’ve visited the city I call home, we’ve eaten so much amazing food, never being the girls that ordered salads because we were on a diet (after all, one frozen pizza is one serving), we’ve had drinks and laughed our asses off, I’ve told you I swear to god I didn’t get you pregnant after keeping you out too late the night before the Chicago marathon drinking wine, we’ve sat at the bar the day before a marathon (this seems to be a theme – don’t hang out with me the night before a PR attempt) wondering how long that asshole is going to sell us this story about his boat, probably ruining your chance at a PR and the text messages after from your at the time DH led to me calling you HOLLERING about how I shaved nothing for you and holyshitthisisembarrassing but STILL HILARIOUS, and girl, you know who you are. I spent a day with one of those women in NYC last summer, and it was a day I will never forget. It forged a friendship that will last for all time, as so many of these friendships will. Just because I didn’t mention the moment we shared here doesn’t mean it doesn’t mean the fucking WORLD to me, especially you with the dirty books and the dirty blog.
And do NOT even get me started on that fucking chocolate croissant. I have a brown belt, and I’ll slap you if you touch my kid’s hand. (Raise your hand if you STILL almost piss yourself laughing at that. Okay, just me. Whatevs.) Celebrate with me, friends.
Anyway, so on this women’s forum, we bitch about stuff sometimes. Things that bother us. Work, friends, husbands, girlfriends, kids, whatever. And after years of getting advice, someone (I honestly forget who) said that sometimes you just need an “Oh, Honey.” You don’t need advice, you don’t need a recommendation. You just need someone to hold you close (or not even touch you at all), and say, “Oh, Honey.” It’s worked WONDERS. It became a bit of a catch-phrase – if you don’t want advice? Just tell us that you want an “Oh honey,” and girl, we are ON IT. We will “OH HONEY” your ass off. Because we are nothing if we are not supportive. God forbid you’re the person who our friend needs advice about because goddammit we have our pitchforks ready and sharp.
So when I’m telling all y’all what I’m doing with my house? I’m gonna start ending it with an “oh, honey,” because while I love your good intentions? I NEED TO GET THIS SHIT OUT MY GAHTDAMB HOUSE and your well-meaning suggestions are doing nothing other than sending me into a rage. If you still give me a suggestion that I didn’t ask for? I’m gonna show up on your porch and leave whatever it is on your porch to deal with it.
This doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate your advice. I do. But right now? This shit has to GO, and it’s going how I decide it’s going. So unless I ask for your advice? OH HONEY my ass off and let’s go have drinks, okay? Don’t be offended – I don’t have time to stroke your ego.
Anyway. OH HONEY I HAVE A LOT OF SHIT TO DO THIS WEEKEND!
On another note, this doesn’t mean we won’t give advice if you ask for it. Be prepared for that because you KNOW it is COMING.