I met her almost 15 years ago and couldn’t stand her. She was hoity-toity, one of those rich
girls whose parents seemed to cater to her every whim. Truth be told, I was jealous of this
quality—having to work from the moment I turned 14. I was outgoing; she was more censored. I was loud; she was reserve. She had the silver spoon; I had the
paper cup. Complete opposites at
first glance.
When I discovered we’d both be working in the same department,
in the same locked vault, I wanted to come unglued. I’d have to spend all my time with this anti-social, has
everything, pain? The first few
weeks opening Dave and Buster's were miserable. She couldn’t
stand me any more than I could stand her.
We ignored each other—only talking when absolutely necessary. We’d steal glances at one
another—judging the other’s outfit in silence. Basically throwing out every bit of body language necessary
to reveal our contempt of the other.
And then one day she needed some help balancing the monies
she was counting. She was cursing
like a sailor, when I realized, “Hey I could like this girl.” Perhaps the string of profanities is
what drew me to her—perhaps just how real she was. From that moment forward we became inseparable. During the day, we’d find ourselves
playing “guess that song” over the phone’s speaker through the talent of
whistling—usually ended up laughing in hysterics on the floor. Don’t ask how I’m able to make every
song sound exactly the same—one of my many talents. At night when we were bored we would go zen—a game we created
where we’d simply hop into the car, blast 80s music as loud as possible, and
drive with no set destination. We
would end up in the craziest places, which was part of the fun. Every other weekend would be spent
dancing our booties off or shooting pool or pigging out on fast food or DJing the karaoke nights at D & B. Good times.
There were nights when we’d decide at 3 am to start a new
diet--always with excitement and ideas of the "new us". I remember going to Walmart
to buy scales, SlimFast, and measuring tapes—only to change our minds as the
sun came up and dying for a Starbucks. There were many of
times she tried teaching me how to make the most delicious chicken and rice
dish—just never tasted the same when I made it instead of her. There were days we spent watching the
entire Sex and the City series in our PJs—would have never become addicted if not for
her. And the shoe shopping
sprees we went on. No one has the
shoe collection that this girl has.
As the years went by, she was there for every high moment,
and every low moment too. There
were days when I wondered what I’d do without her and days when I wanted to
strangle her. Times we laughed
until we cried, and times when the tears couldn’t stop flowing and tissues
littered the floor around us. We were inseparable. When
I learned she was moving to Texas, my heart sunk to the floor. I was thrilled that she had found the
man of her dreams, and heartbroken to see my best friend leaving me. That was a rough day--for both of us.
I knew that the miles between us wouldn’t define our
friendship. They couldn't. She meant too much to me. It became work to keep
in touch. At first we were really
bad at it, going months at a time without chatting...but eventually we have found our own long distance groove. During one phone call when she told me she might not be able
to have children, my heart broke for her—I even offered my womb up for her. Although being five years older than
she and the cobwebs were starting to form…it didn't matter. I'd do anything for this girl. Eight months ago when she told me she was pregnant, my heart filled with love
and joy and longing. I wanted so
badly to be there for her. To
touch that growing belly and get grossed out if she puked for no other reason
than for being knocked up. I wanted to shop until we dropped for little Olivia and give her all the advice I could. I wanted to share in the joys, and warn her of the heartache. But the
miles did get between us and I’ve been unable to do so.
I’ve been buying baby stuff for baby Olive as though it’s going out of
style. I can't help myself. Knowing all she’s done for
my kids and me over the years has made me want to do so much for her little
bundle. For the last two months
I’ve been prying to find out when her baby shower will be. The in-laws are throwing it for her (how sweet are they!)
and I wanted to be there to help celebrate the new life she and her husband are
bringing into the world. With only
1 ½ week’s notice, I was informed of the shower. At first I panicked just a bit—wondering how the heck would
I pull this off? Not much time to plan a trip or to talk my sister into doing the 12 hour drive with me. It’s been 3 years
since I’ve seen her and I really miss my best friend. And while our lives have taken different paths, I know that
she’s always there—always on my side to listen, to give me advice, to shoot me
a bit of critical honesty when needed.
My husband took one look at my face, knew exactly what I should do, and encouraged me
to take a couple of days off of work, book a hotel, and get my butt to
Texas. Luckily, my sister decided
to do the drive with me. I decided
my best friend needs a bit of a surprise and it’s been SO hard not to tell her
I’m on my way. When I told her I
couldn’t make it, I feigned the sadness and the misty eyes. She sounded sad on the phone--the fake voice of happiness, but she wasn't fooling me. When I told her the gifts were in the
mail, I was completely lying to her.
When I told her I planned on coming out this summer so I could see the
baby, I didn’t mention how in three days I’ll be rubbing that belly and talking to Olivia.
This Saturday at one in the morning, my sister, niece, and I will be making the 12-hour trek out to Texas—driving straight on through to the Dallas/Ft. Worth
area to attend my best friend’s baby shower and surprise the heck out of
her! I can’t wait to walk into her
baby shower and see the shock on her face! Until then, I’ll keep walking around Denver with this grin
on my face, just waiting impatiently for this weekend to arrive.
Here’s to you
My friend, my pal
My girl, my gal
(A poem written to me from Christine many years
ago--it always makes us laugh!)
P.S. I’M SO EXCITED!
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