My best friend reads my blog. She wants to know why I haven’t mentioned her in any of my posts. I don’t have a reason other than the fact that I figured if she wanted to be exposed on the internet, that should be her doing, not mine. We have been friends for twenty-five+ years – uck, that makes me feel old. Through new boyfriends, old boyfriends, boyfriends that-shouldn’t-have-been-boyfriends, breakups, marriages, pregnancies, fun stuff, sad stuff, boring stuff – all the things that make a friend, a friend – we’ve been there for each other. I feel somewhat comfortable airing my laundry here, not all the dirty, unmentionables, like socks and underwear, but the towels and the T-shirts are okay enough for the public to see.
But to air someone else’s?
That is a no-no.
But I think she wants me to put something out there, to let her know how much I really care about her. Here goes…
…the top 10 list of…Why Amy Is My Bestest Friend:
10. She spells her name with a “y”, not an “i” or an annoying “ee”.
9. We camped out in her car…in a parking lot…without our parents’ permission…for REM tickets. (No, Nick and Reagan, you can’t)
8. She helped me change a tire, in our pajamas, in the rain. Fun day. Thanks a lot, Lance!
7. When I’m mad at my husband, she is too. But when I’m in love with him again, she is too. That is reciprocal, by the way, no exceptions.
6. She knows things. Things that will not be mentioned, because they did not happen.
5. She invited me to her out-of-state wedding, but didn’t really expect me to go. This also covers kid’s parties and Tupperware/Mary Kay/Scentsy Candle/fill-in-the-blank parties. This also is reciprocal – we’ve got other regular friends that will happily show up for that crap.
4. She gets that sometimes when you say, “I’ll call you back”, $#it comes up and you can’t. You want to but you can’t. We both know we’ll be talking again at some point, so what’s the difference. Other friends get pissed about that, not us.
3. She runs and eats healthy, but doesn’t jam it down my throat. I live healthy vicariously through her.
2. We both used to smoke. Now we phone each other for that relaxing, smoke-free “smoke break” away from our stress for 15 minutes. Or 2 hours, whatever.
And finally, – cue the drumroll –
1. She is the strongest person I know. Bitch survived a traumatic brain aneurysm bursting, for God’s sake, last year and still graduated college, and still went on to graduate school, while working and taking care of her family. She didn’t miss a beat. She is amazing. I love her. And appreciate her. Thank you Jesus, for leaving her here, for me.
There you go, dear Amy. The post about you. You were afraid I was going to tell everyone about you peeing your pants in Fairview Park in high school, weren’t you?
But there’s so much more. So, so much more.