Fab Annie

I wanted to dedicate this day to my dear friend Annie. Today she is getting her new birthday as her stem cell transplant, aka Jerome, is transfered into her exuberant body through the miracles of modern science.

I’m thinking of her especially, today, put on my purple Girls Rock DC shirt in her honor, but each day I read her Care Pages Blog or status updates, I am moved by her amazing courage and spirit. She is just one of those phenomenal women you may be so lucky to find and friend in your life.

Annie and met in undergrad at GWU and soon thereafter fell for each other, most notably through our Biological Anthropology class (awesome) and our crews became one, stoopin it up in front of the student center and generating all kinds of (somewhat tame) raucous adventures across the GWU campus. Post-school days we worked to form a Women’s Group to bring together awesome women from different corners and pockets of DC for fun, learning, discussion, adventures, and more fun. Annie is one of those connectors and we managed to bring together some pretty phenomenal women who I continue to appreciate and cross paths with even since I’ve left DC. We also had some stellar non-stop chatter lunch dates at Java Green when we both worked in non-profits in downtown DC.

In addition to being a kick-ass chick, working her tiny buttocks off to improve the world (e.g. helping to found Grrls Rock DC), bringing her raging dance floor skills and incredible energy and spirit wherever she goes, Annie is one of the best friends one could hope for. She is one solid stone in many peoples lives and it shows when you get together with her and/or meet any of her other friends. Let’s just say the love pours!

So, a toast and cheers to Annie! I know she’s gonna rock this day just like she does every other day, but today I also hope she can feel the kind of love and support from friends (and family) that she has given so much to over the years.

Rage it like a Grannie Annie!


When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people’s gardens

And learn to spit.


You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.


But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.


But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.


By: Jenny Joseph