Eulogy for someone not dead, 1985-86

Right now I am watching the Rosie documentary about their cruise. It's really intense. It gives you a lump in your throat in parts, but more than anything, I am preoccupied with the clausterphobia I think I'd feel on a ship. I dunno, it looks like people everywhere. Oh, prove me wrong people - send us on a cruise and prove me wrong.
So Margo wants me to write her eulogy when she passes. Now, as far as I know, she's healthy as a horse (a healthy horse that is, as there must be ill horses out there, which means that saying is actually stupid and not accurate). Oh boy, I wouldn't know where to start or what to even say, at least what would be appropriate to say. I'd probably start out with a Margo truism: It's a good thing she's departed, because if she knew how much this funeral was costing, it would kill her all over again. Not to say that our homegirl was cheap, but bitch knew the value of a dime, you know what I'm saying? To which the place would be full of "Amens" and women with fans nodding their heads and saying "uh huh!" Wait, well, that is more of a funeral out of an episode of 227, but nevertheless, it's true.
So, let's relive the good times of knowing Margo. I met her when I was 15 years old, in our remedial algebra class. It was shameful to be in remedial algebra, but then again, at least it wasn't general math. Of course, instead of the funky "MATH IS IV" book that all the other grade 10 albegra students had, we had to carry around BASIC ALGEBRA with the bright yellow cover that made sure that everyone knew you were, well, retarded. So, with that shame, it's no wonder we bonded.
I am not even sure how we met - she had these two friends named Barbara Ann and Lucy and I was placed by those two in the class and got chatty with them. Since we were all chatty, I got moved to sit by Margo. Margo sort of scared me at first - well, not scared SCARED, but she didn't come across as friendly, and I thought she was really old, since we were 15, but she drove. She had this interesting hairdo I can't rightly describe, but it was dyed blonde and had this Duran thing going on - I'd say it was basically a John Taylor thing. So, first impression was a tough talking, chain smoking older chick with a Duran Duran obsession and a car. Well, Lucy's friend, Lucy Ann, had the hots for me, and so somehow we all made plans to go to this dance together. I had swiped a spaghetti sauce jar of mixed booze from my folks and Margo brought this big joint she rolled in a cigarette roller (it was "Homegrown" and, well, I am pretty sure in retrospect that it was a fern or something).
So we all went to this dance and had a hell of a time, and I found out that Margo was indeed only 15, but she "had a license" because she had her learners from Alberta, and said it mistakenly said it was a class five license - yes, I know, in retrospect, it makes no sense either. But it was cool knowing someone who drove and thus we just all said Margo was 16 and had failed grade two or something.
I guess I should mention Margo came to Saskatchewan to live with her dad, because she didn't see eye to eye with the stepdaddy. So, it was just Margo and her dad, Lance, and Lance was pretty damn easygoing. He kept her in gas and cigarettes, and would "pull" for her whenever she wanted booze.
So, anyway, I can still picture Margo dropping me off after that dance - she was all looped and took her foot off the break in front of my house and the passenger door was still open and she almost took it off on the tree in front of the house. Good times.
Well, Margo and I started hanging out all the time, and we developed a taste for drinking apricot brandy. We would each get a mickey, suck it back in her car in the parking lot next to Robin's Donuts, and listen to music. I would usually mix my booze with a gravol, so I'd get an extra jolt. We would get all drunk and sing into our bottles, often dueting on "That's What Friends Are For" and would just have harmless fun.
What memorable times do I remember from that year - hmmmm.... well, we were drama people wannabes. All the cool people were in drama, and we had crushes on them - I had a thing for "Myrtle" (a codename I gave to this drama weirdo who always tried to kill herself and carried a glow worm around with her) and she had this thing for "Nick" who she named after her obsession, Nick Rhodes. Well, Nick was a drummer and used to wear make up and I think he was sort of a dork, but she was obsessed... OBSESSED. And, lo and behold, they hooked up one night and he gave her a hickey, even though I don't think he knew her name, and she somehow got his wallet. I think she should have kept it, but she gave it back. So, she was always obsessed with Nik and that was the preoccupation for the year.
Music from that year that Margo loved was of course Duran, as well as Corey Hart (she always played Boy in the Box), and she had this thing for Theatre of Pain by Motley Crue, screaming "FUCK with your RULES!" when she listened to "Smoking in the Boys Room". She was also obsessed with Ferris Bueller's Day Off, which we thought was the best movie, and the John Hughes movies. We used to go to the drive in and be so hammered, and I remember watching Pretty in Pink and then running into this Black girl I had a crush on during intermission and then being so happy that I talked all the way through the next movie saying "I love you guys, I really do!"
I can't think of much specific from that year, other than drinking, smoking, eating lunch in her car, and chasing our obsessions. It's in the next two years when things get really interesting. REALLY interesting, the kind of "you are making this up" sort of stuff.
So, eulogy 1986-88 will come next - brace yourself, because it's a bumpy ride - you think I'm kidding, but you will meet the forementioned "Whore" who slept with, I dunno, 1 billion people (3 in one memorable night), and who "ruined" our Margo (her words, not mine, but that comes in the 1990's eulogy), Mr. Chips, the criminal dude who did hard time and drove a limo and who is back in the pen for 30 years, Heather, the woman who shaved her face daily and who almost had a hairier ass than mine, Dirtnut who was, well, a dirtnut, Pee Wee, who was uuugly, some swingers, some satanic drug dealers, a girl with olive green eyes and drove her dead sister's car, Erica the beautiful who, let's face it, wasn't all that beautiful, Duane and Darla, two hillbilly siblings who were nice but had such bad B.O. it's a wonder the Whore was able to sleep with him (and I dunno, maybe her?) and who didn't know how to dispose of feminine hygiene products, and a whole bunch of other assorted freaks and weirdoes. You will be brought into a house where "Fruitflies pig on on the piss", meet "the band", and hear all about meltdowns, including one memorable night where Margo was in tears, the Whore went on a rampage about her sister and Janet Jackson being coke heads, Duane running into the bushes bawling his eyes out, and me throwing my shoes at Margo as some sort of statement and trying to walk 4 miles home. Good times.
Happy Sunday.