My writerly partner and new good friend, Anjie, talked me into submitting to Skirt magazine's Holiday Writing Contest.

I trust everything Anjie says. Even though I only met her this summer. In the World's Sleekest And Mocha-Yummiest Coffee Place, though. Which added major credibility.

We started talking. Okay, I started talking. Anjie ripped the earphones out of her ears and listened to my diatribe on tailoring curriculum toward clientele, and she handled my interview with grace and wit.

We were both college writing teachers! We were both writers! We both had eight year-olds and had lived in San Francisco!

No way!" I said, "Is your husband a firefighter, too?"

He was a dentist.

But husbands didn't matter, anyway.

Anjie was smart, and I'm a sucker for smart.

So I did the logical thing. I told her I didn't want any more friends.

Then I ran into her in Albertsons. She was with two toeheads. I was in a pirate costume. When I saw her next, it was in the middle of the street. She had green skin and a pointy black hat.

Today Anjie and I wrote together for the sixth or seventh time. When my man came off shift, there we were, on opposite ends of my kitchen table, plinking away on our computer keys and sobbing silently to ourselves.


Anyway, I did as Anjie told me. About the contest, and everything.

Aaannnddd...

I got Runner Up!

To see the story that Anjie helped me tweak to win, click here and scroll toward the bottom.

And to see why she and I are serious birds of a feather, check this out.