#58, Vanessa.

In 7th (and some of 8th) grade, Vanessa was one of my best (and only!) friends. Her main character trait was hilariousness. She had squinty eyes, brown hair with long bangs, a huge smile, and a big nose. i used to sneak out of my house at night (sorry, mom) and walk the two miles up to her street, which had a sneaky little back alley behind it, much unlike the rest of the streets in our town. i would sneak into her room through the window. Looking back, i honestly can't even remember what we did in those wee hours, except play dress-up and go for late night walks. Once she and i did a class project together, and she taught me how to soak a piece of paper in tea and then bake it in the oven until it was all warped and singed, which made it look like an absolutely authentic old document. She gave me a crinkly, flowery babydoll dress that was one of her prized possessions, because i loved it so much. Her house had hardwood floors and always smelled like potpourri. Her mom was French and had a beautiful sexy accent. They had a Welsh Corgi that they spoiled to all hell, and Vanessa taught me how to play the piano (they had one in their living room, of course). i wanted to have their life. Once she and i were at a park in Berkeley on a summer afternoon, and she made me laugh so hard that i actually peed my pants. i had to walk all the way home (instead of taking the bus) with a sweater tied around my waist. Wow, admitting that is both more and less embarrassing than i thought it would be.