(to my MANN Mafia roomies)
I love my amazing MANN
and all the years we’ve shared.
I love you for all the things you’ve done
that showed me how much you cared:
For hugging me when I was stressed,
For making me ice skate against my will.
Your shoes are flippin big ones
that no one else can fill.
I love my MANN most of all
for always making me laugh.
You know me so well, inside and out,
You’re truly my other half.
My MANN is crazy.
My MANN is legit.
You’re intelligent, caring, hilarious –
My MANN is the perfect fit.
To my husband, my groomie, my Sista Jazz,
and all the delirious nights we’ve had:
I’ll miss our dyslexic Buddhist days
and all the wonderfully wacky ways
you made me smile, even when I was mad.
I love all the awkward adventures we’ve had:
Utopian Societies, “wake-up” slaps,
the many, MANY, accidental naps,
the Grapes of Wrath, the sandwich on the wall,
trying funky clothes on at Fox Hills mall,
prom dates, code names, dissecting our rat,
taking out Froggie’s macaroni fat,
our spot, wearing things sideways, our Mr. Feeny,
our first day in Desmond, our last in Eugenie,
the Speakeasy Cult, open mic, and Huesman boys,
and so many more memories of blessings and joys
that you’ve given me these past 8 years,
It’s ‘cause I love you so much I’ve been shedding tears.
But we’re married now, since 4 years past,
and though we’ll live separate, our bond will always last.
To Nicole “Poopy” Shokrolla:
I call you that with LOVE,
‘cause you are my favorite Cookie.
You’re a blessing from above.
You are the wildly hot Ugie
who likes to eat Toffuti.
You killed a guy named Stu,
and you specialize in Poo,
though you did major in Dance,
and I know it wasn’t chance
that brought us together in 223
to tell each other stories of seeing guys pee,
to play cards and old school video games,
to sing karaoke with stupid nicknames,
to get stuck in traffic for over 3 hours,
to eat like cows and hog the shower.
We found your hidden talents and semi-crude mind.
If I searched my whole life, I would never find
another roomie as amazing as you.
I’ll miss you Cookie, you and your poo!
To A-Town, D. Peaches, my partner in crime:
It’s impossible to name all our ridiculous good times.
From creepers, to formals, to crazy ADG,
Both good and bad times with our “Delta x 3”
Lettuce on your shirt, sleeping on UHALL garage floor,
Never quite knowing what the nights had in store,
Ghetto Mondays, Jerry’s, and Custom North Star,
Cruisin around in my monkeyed-out car,
Hanging with G and laughing ‘til we cry,
Believing we should have been born a guy.
I’ll miss our shinanagins and late night chats,
the funky exchanges with all the frats.
“Go Team!…What happened?” “Fireside?”
I couldn’t have a better partner, no matter how hard I tried.
From Glow, Sangría, to Air Conditioned,
To midnight dance parties in the kitchen.
JT, Rihanna, and Britney repeated,
the balding men and bugaboos deleted,
Creeper Walks and shout outs to Jenny B!
I effing love you, dirty, ‘cause you complete me!
I love my MANN, and all that you do.
The Will Ferrell obsession, staying up ‘til 2:00,
random décor, dorky ways,
Amanda on the couch eating her Lays,
crumping, “Bring It On,” straw paper glasses,
going to the beach in between classes,
always eating, Tennis Tuesdays, TJ Maxx,
getting Amanda to eat healthy snacks,
Knotts, Blasting Miley, the list never ends,
So thanks for being my Mafia, and my very best friends.
I love you MANN! 🙂
Pennyless Writer 