Dear Best Friend
Happy Birthday, Best Friend.
Another year older and wiser and yet you are exactly the same.
When we were kids we never talked about being 30 or, Heaven forbid, any older than 30. What did we talk about?
Boys. Chorus. Peerleading. Hair. Aquanet. Clothes. Skinny girls who we envied. How our dads were so strict. Classes. All those pince classes...
Then we talked about almost all the same things in high school as we browsed the thrift stores, traded in our maroon lipstick which was never our shade- what were we thinking? and wore overalls, like, every single day.
On more than one occasion we had crushes on boys who were friends and we thought it was so convenient. On more than one occasion we had a crush (at different times) on the same boy. Can I remind you on a blog? No. We can discuss in person. =)
But let me jar your memory just a little. That one from junior high that I liked who you went on to like a few years later in high school?... and the one boy I dated when we were sophomores and he picked us those huge daisies from that field and then he accidently smashed your finger in his car door (your poor finger!!)
And then in our early college years when we were both single for the first time in years we dated friends. We would cruise in that pick-up truck and giggle in the backseat. We loved our double dates, didn't we!? But then you went and stopped liking your boy and my boy was just so strange. Of course, I won't put any blame on us- we were perfect- right?
Okay... I think you are starting to remember....
I try to make it a point not to cry in front of friends, but with you I have cried. You saw me through the 2 worst heartbreaks of my life- one with a boyfriend, and one with the passing of my father.
What I love most about you is that you never say anything bad about your friends. And even though we are both total chismosas, we never have negative conversations about our friends. We might talk chet about other random people, but not those we love most.
But I need to let everyone know that there is one thing I don't like about you, Maria!
I am not a fan of when you leave me a voicemail that says: "Oh my Gosh, I have to tell you something..." or "Guess who I saw!?"... and.... then.... that's it.
No details. And I swear when I call you back, mysteriously, I cannot reach you. I am too impatient for that, Maria- you should know better by now.
But you do it because you know it makes me antsy and you think it's hilarious. Shame on you, Josefina.
I like you because you don't pretend to be a wine snob. You are completely content with being a Bud Light girl, and I like that.
I like you because your car always smells nice. I know that is not a good reason to like a person, but it's one of my reasons. It's a small representation of the sweetness you bring to my life and how much pride you take in the things you care about.
I'm glad that you like my tamales. What a relief! And I'm glad that you like my crazy family and you know them just as I know them, which is a huge comfort.
I will always remember sledding down the mountains in Switzerland together and sitting on a beach in Barcelona with the cute boys from Sweden.... and then we took the train from Barcelona to Milan and met those Italian guys. They helped you with that huge suitcase you brought (silly Maria) and we spent the next 3 hours trying to have a conversation in Spangtalian. Funny!
I will remember us walking arm in arm to a pub in Salamanca when an old crazy bum grabbed my breast and it took us a full minute to realize what had just happened. No one else will understand why that was so funny... but we do... and that's all that matters.
I remember you called me and told me you heard an ex-boyfriend of mine was getting married, and I was so thankful I had heard it from you and not from someone else. Because even though my heart was a little broken, I knew yours was too.
And all of our memories and mutual understandings of life and love are what make you my "Best Friend".
Happy Birthday, Maria. Here is to many more years of fun, laughter and Bud Lights.
Maria & I, Yosemite, 1996
Another year older and wiser and yet you are exactly the same.
When we were kids we never talked about being 30 or, Heaven forbid, any older than 30. What did we talk about?
Boys. Chorus. Peerleading. Hair. Aquanet. Clothes. Skinny girls who we envied. How our dads were so strict. Classes. All those pince classes...
Then we talked about almost all the same things in high school as we browsed the thrift stores, traded in our maroon lipstick which was never our shade- what were we thinking? and wore overalls, like, every single day.
On more than one occasion we had crushes on boys who were friends and we thought it was so convenient. On more than one occasion we had a crush (at different times) on the same boy. Can I remind you on a blog? No. We can discuss in person. =)
But let me jar your memory just a little. That one from junior high that I liked who you went on to like a few years later in high school?... and the one boy I dated when we were sophomores and he picked us those huge daisies from that field and then he accidently smashed your finger in his car door (your poor finger!!)
And then in our early college years when we were both single for the first time in years we dated friends. We would cruise in that pick-up truck and giggle in the backseat. We loved our double dates, didn't we!? But then you went and stopped liking your boy and my boy was just so strange. Of course, I won't put any blame on us- we were perfect- right?
Okay... I think you are starting to remember....
I try to make it a point not to cry in front of friends, but with you I have cried. You saw me through the 2 worst heartbreaks of my life- one with a boyfriend, and one with the passing of my father.
What I love most about you is that you never say anything bad about your friends. And even though we are both total chismosas, we never have negative conversations about our friends. We might talk chet about other random people, but not those we love most.
But I need to let everyone know that there is one thing I don't like about you, Maria!
I am not a fan of when you leave me a voicemail that says: "Oh my Gosh, I have to tell you something..." or "Guess who I saw!?"... and.... then.... that's it.
No details. And I swear when I call you back, mysteriously, I cannot reach you. I am too impatient for that, Maria- you should know better by now.
But you do it because you know it makes me antsy and you think it's hilarious. Shame on you, Josefina.
I like you because you don't pretend to be a wine snob. You are completely content with being a Bud Light girl, and I like that.
I like you because your car always smells nice. I know that is not a good reason to like a person, but it's one of my reasons. It's a small representation of the sweetness you bring to my life and how much pride you take in the things you care about.
I'm glad that you like my tamales. What a relief! And I'm glad that you like my crazy family and you know them just as I know them, which is a huge comfort.
I will always remember sledding down the mountains in Switzerland together and sitting on a beach in Barcelona with the cute boys from Sweden.... and then we took the train from Barcelona to Milan and met those Italian guys. They helped you with that huge suitcase you brought (silly Maria) and we spent the next 3 hours trying to have a conversation in Spangtalian. Funny!
I will remember us walking arm in arm to a pub in Salamanca when an old crazy bum grabbed my breast and it took us a full minute to realize what had just happened. No one else will understand why that was so funny... but we do... and that's all that matters.
I remember you called me and told me you heard an ex-boyfriend of mine was getting married, and I was so thankful I had heard it from you and not from someone else. Because even though my heart was a little broken, I knew yours was too.
And all of our memories and mutual understandings of life and love are what make you my "Best Friend".
Happy Birthday, Maria. Here is to many more years of fun, laughter and Bud Lights.
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