Mitzy Writes Stories

Mitzy is four months older than me, but she seems like she should be four years younger. Still, we are best friends. Like any other girl, she is caring, helpful, and honest. Yet, she is so similar to a small child: a little oblivious, awkward, and spontaneous. Every time she emails me, she tells me about her life, she titles the subject “week”, and she sends them to me week after week. She writes stories, they go on and on and on. Sure, they’re funny, but there is never much control over her plotline.

            She tells me about her dreams, and I tell her about mine. They’re whimsical and a little odd like a ladybug caught in a windstorm – but always funny. She has many random thoughts that don’t connect, but the big thing is listening to her talk about her past.

            Mitzy always remembers the weird events. The funny times, but the ones that are always somewhat irrelevant and easily forgotten. Boys, wood, and cheese. Out of her mind and through her mouth. I can’t help but laugh. Then the next time I talk to her, it’s boys, wood, and cheese. Same odd memories.

            Don’t get me wrong, Mitzy is loving and genuine, a wonderful friend. But there’s something about her, it’s different. She’s a dreamer, a happy spirit. She encourages others and lives in a quirky trance, in a mind that I will never understand.

written May 25, 2010 for a House on Mango Street assignment as a spin-off of "Minerva Writes Poems" (character name changed for privacy)