Tag Archive: best friends


During a facebook chat conversation this evening, I said the following to my dear friend Megan:

i wanna see your peacock

Now, this could mean many things. You may not think so, but I can give you at least three different scenarios right now:

  1. She recently came to own a peacock and I was expressing my desire to introduce myself to her new pet.
  2. I was listening to the Katy Perry song entitled Peacock and “singing” to her.
  3. Innuendo. (Even though Megan is definitely a lady and doesn’t even a have a peacock.)

Even though I sincerely wish it was 1 that was the truth, it was really 2.

are you brave enough to let me see your peacock?

After I told her I wanted to see her peacock, she told me, “that is a very personal comment.”

This made me realize something: there are many personal things shared between friends. Obviously, you talk and share secrets and shiz. And I would say that my group of friends is pretty…. personal. We’re super close.

Not in a dirty way. (No homo.) Just… in a we’re-all-really-close-friends-and-lack-boundaries-now-at-this-point-in-our-friendship kind of way. I wonder when that started. But honestly, for as long as I can remember, it’s been like that. Although, I can also honestly say that my friends now seem to just ignore my I don’t like to be touched rules. Like, to the point where it’s not really an issue for me anymore. I’ve come to accept that I’m going to hug Leah awkwardly when I see her, I’m going to be tackled when reuniting with a friend I haven’t seen in a couple months, my boobs will be touched by hands that don’t belong to me, Alecia will smack my ass whenever she feels like it, when we’re out at the bar I will grind up on my girls and they’ll grind right back.

It’s a fact of life.

I then wondered if all groups of friends were like this. You know, personal.

I would assume so. But, gosh, you just never know!

So I started thinking about my other group of girlfriends. I would say that we are pretty personal in the things we discuss. We’re not the kind of friends I have from home and from college, and stuff, but we’re friends all the same. We do, however, spend the entire week together and that just makes us close by default. We talk every day. About pretty much everything.

I mean, the things we discuss are pretty personal. I mean, we for realz talk about everything. We talk about food and candy and things I won’t eat (blue!) and things I’ve never eaten (corn dog!).  We also talk about sex. And boys. And babies. And bowels. And our frustrations, the joys in life and Glee.

It’s just a different kind of close.

For example, while my closeclose friends may share all of those things as well, they would not at all apologize for reaching out and grabbing a little bit of boob as they tried to pull something off my shirt. But my other friends totally apologize when doing that.

I guess it’s just different strokes for different folks.

I kind of love how wildly inappropriate we are, though, so I wouldn’t change a thing!

How close are you to your friends? Do you lack boundaries like my group of friends?

Chokehold (is that what this move is called?!) in the middle of the dance floor in the basement of a fraternity? No big deal.

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Well, I can tell you that 23 doesn’t really feel any different than 22.

I can also tell you that last night, out on the town, celebrating my 23rd year on earth with some of my best gals, I had the best time. It was a top night.

Thankfully, none of us had the sense to bring a camera to document the shitshow that was my birthday celebration. I did manage to snap a couple pics on my crackberry, which I will of course share with you here.  I can’t post all of them because some are embarrassing, so those will just stay on my phone for my own viewing pleasure, for moments when I need a good laugh. Or to remind my old ass that I was once, indeed, young, pretty, and fun.

that measuring cup doubled as a shot glass

At dinner, I ordered a Shirley Temple. I turned 23, I’m at a nice dinner with my mother for my birthday and I ordered a Shirley fucking Temple. Who am I?! And while I was sipping my mocktail of sprite and grenadine, I had a thought: cherry vodka and sprite! So I went and got burnetts cherry vodka, like I’m in high school and will drink anything with alcohol in it ’cause you take what you can get when you’re underage. Except not me, when I was underage I almost exclusively drank Bacardi. But that is neither here nor there.

I sent the following text to my friend: “So, I bought cherry burnetts for tonight… I’m pretty much gonna die”

It was pretty much right on point.

the only appropriate photo of the entire evening

I had a birthday crown. It was made for a four year old, I’m sure, but I wore it all night long. The “jewel” on the top of the crown had a button on it that made it light up and blink different colors. I was very excited by this for the simple fact that I could use it as a beacon to locate my girls when we inevitably got separated. Needless to say, that idea didn’t really work out, but in theory it was genius.

The best part of last night was that we haven’t had a night like that with a bunch of us girls together in a while. And we also haven’t scattered like that in a hot minute. There were six of us and there was a time when none of us knew where any of the others were. It was awesome. I decided to wander away from the group (okay, so that’s pretty normal) and go somewhere else with someone else, and as I was leaving I ran into Meg and Kirsten. We went to another bar and didn’t have any idea where the other three went. We only found out later that Le and Mil went home, and Sen had left to go to another bar with other people.

I woke up this morning still drunk and thanked my lucky stars that I was alive! Then I ate a piece of birthday cake and found religion, it was that good.

It was a top night.

I hope 23 is a good year!

For the past five months and thirteen days, my  heart has been trying to heal.

I have been fixated on the one thing I didn’t have but yearned for so badly. The sense of loss I felt consumed me and I felt like I would never feel whole again. I felt like my heart would always have a gaping hole, that no matter what I did, how much time passed or who came into my life post-war, my heart would always feel like a piece was missing.

There are just some people you can’t live without. There are people out there who impact you in a way that is indescribable, and unless someone has someone like that in his or her life, he or she just cannot understand what that feels like. There are people that your mind, body, and soul have conditioned you to believe you need them in your life, that they are your tether to reality and to things that matter. There are people out there that have marked your life so implicitly that to have to live without that, it actually hurts.  There are just certain people that know you and like you even when you don’t deserve it.

For five months and thirteen days, my person was not my person anymore. My best friend, my soul sister, was no longer a part of my life. The bond we thought to be indestructible took a hit that very nearly destroyed us. For five months and thirteen days, I didn’t speak to the one person who knew me better than anyone else on this earth, the person who knew my every move before I made it, could be honest with me when no one else could, was there when I pushed everyone else away. For five months and thirteen days, it seemed our friendship had lost its pulse. It was over, and I felt alone.

We weren’t fair to each other. We loved but we stopped liking. We stopped listening. Things changed. We changed. But this time, after so many years, we didn’t change together. We grew up, and we grew away. Unable to cope, we pushed until we broke. And break, we did.

For the first time in five months and thirteen days, my heart feels like it’s mending itself. The gaping hole in my chest is closing, and it doesn’t hurt to breathe. Time was on our side, but it was wiser than the two of us.  We needed to be apart to learn to care again.

New beginnings seem scary, but I can feel the pulse coming back. The wreckage we caused is finally being remedied. Post-war isn’t so dark anymore. It ‘s a new era. And even though I know it can’t be how it was, the funny thing about life and love is that it goes on. We have a chance to start over, to be fair and really care this time. We have the lessons we learned from the pain to guide us, to remind us to be better.

To make it to the other side, it has to be a testament to the strength of our bond.

I’ve missed you.