“I will believe in you every day of my life.” As told to ET by Elliot.

About a week ago I woke up in the middle of the night and heard someone say, “Why don’t you write about me?” I was pretty sure I recognized that voice.

The next morning I picked up a book, opened it and read, “I will believe in you every day of my life.” Okay, so this person is not so subtle!

David is my Elliot. We met 25 years ago. We were both 12 (we were mature for our age) and were employed in the Direct Mail/Advertising department at Bloomingdale’s in Manhattan.

Visiting David in AZ. He actually left Manhattan.

We had that comfort level that comes from knowing someone in another place and time. Don’t know the place or time but we have all met people where there is such a connection right away. If not, please get out more. They are out there. They would like to meet you. Again.

“I will believe in you every day of my life” friends are such an extraordinary gift.

When you feel like a stuffed pig in that little black dress that you didn’t buy on sale, they will tell you that your legs go on for days (they won’t mention that your rent is overdue).

When you break up with a bad boyfriend (and I don’t mean the “good” bad) they are there to soothe your broken heart (or was it the ego?).

When you continue to break up with the before mentioned bad boyfriends they exhibit courage by slipping the business card of a very good therapist in your hand.

When you are blind to your extraordinary and dazzling attributes they are there to tell you that you were always clever, compelling, amusing and a good dancer.

When they stay on the phone with you for three hours they will say it’s because your melodic voice totally engages them. They will never mention that they ran out of sleeping pills and that the drugstore is closed.

When they make you stretch beyond your comfort level and you start to feel the glimmer of your new life emerging, they are there to welcome you home.

There should be a national holiday for “I will believe in you everyday of my life” friends.

Now in fairness to me, I’m a “I will believe in you every day of my life” friend to David. I always felt he did more to enrich my life, but if I think of all the adventures we went thru together (and survived), I know I kept up with him just fine.

David is the ugly woman on the right. Just in case you were not sure.

We were struggling writers who had a gem of an idea for a TV show about 2 friends(how original): he the handsome, intelligent entrepreneur who saves world from ugly visible panty lines and she the clumsy, sarcastic (and outrageously breathtaking looking) woman who bought all the nations of the world to the peace table and just left them there.

Sadly we never got the chance to write our show. David passed away on Thanksgiving in 1997 from AIDS. It still takes my breath away. I lost my safety net. My darling friend.

Call a friend today and tell them why you believe in them. Then show them that you do. Make another call but don’t stay on the phone all the time. Let someone else have the chance to call you and tell you that they will believe in you every day of their lives.

Elliot found that friendship in ET as I found that unwavering friendship in David. But how unfair it is that David’s the cute, wide-eyed boy while I ended up butt naked with a big fat bald head.

And David, if you are listening, “Call home.” Again.

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elizabeth: The movie, Eat, Pray, Love, based on Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestselling memoir (for those of you have been living off the planet for a few years) is coming to a movie theatre near you this Friday. I, for one, am excited. A good friend and I are meeting up on the upper West Side of Manhattan for lunch and a serving of Eat, Pray, Love.

I think so many women wished they could have run away and penned this book – minus the early bathroom scenes.  Hell, I would have been happy to have taken a year long trek to …okay, I am feeling the love and just ate so I won’t mention the state, but you know where you are located. I just want to get the hell out of my office.

Laurie: Home is where the heart is.  Who said that?  Beside me, just now.  Maybe because I did so much of it when I was younger, I am not a travel person.  I like my creature comforts, my nesting space, and NOT flying in big tubular carrier through the sky (after having gone through the hell of airport security and procedures).

elizabeth: Eat:  I  want to throw people into a shallow grave when they just look at food as fuel. That is like those people who eat dirt. Please don’t put any of that on my plate. Food should leave you legless like your most memorable lover and savored like the afterglow(right before he starts snoring) and should always be non-caloric. In my world.  When I visited Italy, home of some of my ancestors (while I do consider myself 100% Italian, some of my relatives might mention the Irish and Scottish side, but I relate more to Michelangelo than to Yeats), I bought pants a size too big so I could eat my way across the countryside. I did not disappoint. Still trying to lose the last few pounds from my trip in 2002. I consider it my Italian baby fat.

Laurie: Now eating I can get into and I don’t need a special country to do it.  Unfortunately.  I’m having company this weekend and I have used that as an excuse to purchase all the decadent things I would never consider – macadamia white chocolate chunk cookies (250 calories EACH), rolls and bagels and all the accompanying butters and cream cheese, pasta just in case I break down and cook, and full-calorie ice cream.  See, I don’t need to go anywhere.  People are traveling to me and I will probably need pants that are two sizes too big before the weekend is over.

elizabeth: Pray: I go back and forth on praying. I think I do, but not always sure whom I am praying to.  I don’t think he has a long beard. I don’t think she has red curly hair. Is it living in my soul or sitting on my shoulder whispering directions to a place of worship?  I think my version doesn’t care where I go as long as I take responsibility for my life and help people and animals who can’t.  When I meet whoever is in charge, my first question (yes, I do plan on having a Q&A with whomever shows up) I would like to know if our planet was the only one that bred so much hate and waged so many wars in the name of God. My God. Your God. Their God.  And question Number 2:  where can I find the best double fudge soft ice cream that won’t cause a muffin top? Okay question #3 – if I become a Buddhist, can I keep my hair long?

Laurie: Man, I bug God to death.  I am constantly talking to him/her.  “What am I supposed to do with new catastrophe?”  “Why on earth would you make somebody so silly?”  “Think it might be time to give me a break?”  “Wow, how could anybody doubt your existence?”  A constant running conversation with a person I have never seen.  The one thing of which I am not guilty is asking him/her for stuff.  Take a break, God.  I lost my keys and I’ll find them.

elizabeth: Love: This is a “word” in progress.  Some days I feel it. Some days I deny its existence.   I try to love the people who make me believe that love is just the most overused word in the universe. According to Askmen.com, “love” overtook the word “hate” on the top ten list. (But the word “like” won. Like it really should have).  So many people are looking around for it.  If you find a place where it really does exist, let me know. I just might take my Italian eating pants and long hair and go live there. As long as I don’t have to eat dirt.

Laurie: Yeah, I need some work here.  When I read many of the philosophies that say we are all one, I look around and go “No way!”  But I love lots of stuff – bargains, sunsets, oceans, birds, etc.  I just have to keep working on the people part.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

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elizabeth: Last week I got a Facebook notice to “like” a page a friend had set up.  I clicked on the link to say I “like it” and I saw this face and  name in her friends group that transported me back to when I was in my 20s and living in San Francisco. My boyfriend at the time had a brother who was married to that red-headed woman I will call Ms. X (a fake name to protect me). I looked at her picture and thought about the different journeys we went on after we both broke up with the brothers. We did live a few block from each other in Manhattan. But we rarely saw each other because I thought she was living the more glamorous life. And I was entering my sullen-poetess-and-stand-up-comic phase. And dating guys whose faces I could never pick out of a crowd.  I think that had to do with dimly-lit bars and becoming dim-witted after a half dozen Southern Comforts. See, Laurie, I did embrace some southern things.

Laurie:  I embraced lots of southern things too, most of them men – well, boys almost about to become men.

elizabeth:  I think I would like to remember my long haired-boyfriend and me as a couple of crazy kids living in a nine-room flat with a couple of flat mates who liked to stroll around naked.  I couldn’t do that but I encouraged and supported it. And I am comfortable knowing that the time spent in San Francisco still feels unspoiled and innocent. So it needs to stay back there. I don’t think it could survive today.

Laurie:  That’s so sweet.  You want your teen years to remain innocent.  Man, I am glad I escaped mine alive.  As a lover of living on the edge, I look back and thank the Universe that I am still around to shake my head wonder “What the hell was I thinking?”

elizabeth: Good old Facebook (hey, Twitter, you’re not looking too good right now) showed up again this weekend with another flashback. A friend of over 30 years emailed me to tell me that she saw a mutual “party our butts off” friend over the weekend. Turns out it was for their high school reunion. Her class had what I foolishly considered the cream of the crop when it came to sweet talking, reefer happy hippie boys. But most of those young men I knew became disillusioned with life early on and that lead me to run away to the west coast. I didn’t want to be left behind where the best that I could ever hope to be was when I was 19.

And so far it is working because I still have all my facilities (regardless of what Laurie might say). And a place where long haired boys can rest and know that I rarely think of them as bloated men with three stands of hair who still think that The Beatles will reunite for one last tour.

Laurie:  I know what you mean, girlfriend.  As a birthday present, I implored my husband to take me to a Neil Diamond concert.  And I kept noticing that all the people there were “middle-aged.”  I wondered what on earth these “old fogies” were doing at Madison Square Garden on the same night as me, and suddenly I realized that some of them were probably my age.  I was thoroughly bummed for a couple of songs, but I eventually took solace in the fact that the young people knew all the words.  I pretended I was a part of their group and let the old folks do their thing.  Totally delusional and not a drug in sight.

© 2010, Coaches on the Edge ™

If you would like to learn more about Laurie, please go to her site: Empowered Life Journeys.

Stop by at elizabeth’s site at: Coaching for the Creative Soul

Please visit our new site at Coaches on the Edge

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