Another (not-so) brief post on friends....

I was the biggest nerd in school.  No, seriously, I was.  In sixth grade I had the "Annie" perm, big clod-hopper shoes, the geeky Tupperware lunch box, and all the very uncool school supplies.  I was the goody two shoes.  Please don't think it was because I wanted to be good.  I was good because I was afraid of my parents. A good, healthy, respectful fear.  I knew that if I got in trouble at school I got it twice as bad at home (May I go on a wee bit of a rant here and say that, if more parents thought that way today I might not have to deal with all the foolishness that I deal with on a day to day basis.  Rant over.)

Anyway, because I was good and very geeky/homely looking, I was a nerd.  Big time.

It didn't get better when I went to college.  No, dear reader, it got worse.  Because not only did all of the above apply, but in college I got fat.  Not just kind of fat but super-duper fat.  I was minus the perm (phew!) and minus the cold-hopper shoes, the Tupperware lunchbox, and the uncool school supplies, but I was a fatty.  And my clothes, most of them, were obviously homemade.  Can you say social outcast?

Extremely important disclaimer:  Please, please, please do not think that I am blaming my parents for any of this.  I had two of the most loving, caring, supportive parents out there.  I honestly with all my heart believe that my parents always did what they thought was best when it came to raising both my brother and I.  I know that this is true because both my brother and I have turned out to be well adjusted, productive citizens.  My parents always did the best they could with what they had and often sacrificed tremendously so that my brother and I could have the things we need and sometimes the things we wanted.

You may be wondering why I am saying all of this.  I am about to tell you.

When I first came up here to the school that I am at (sixteen years ago) I was painfully shy.  A shy, fat, self-conscious, scared teacher.  To my great astonishment the very first person who was genuinely nice to me wasn't my roommate at the time or any of her friends.  No, the first person who was really nice to me, who invited me to do things with her, who included me in things was the coolest person at the school.  The person that everyone wanted to be around.  I couldn't believe it.  I thought it was a mistake.  I really did.  Then I thought maybe she was just being nice.  You know, kind of felt sorry for me.  The more I got to know her, though, the more I realized that she really did like me.  Even with all my above mentioned "faults". 

I never, in a million year, ever dreamed I would be friends with the "popular kid" so to speak.  Real friends.  Not the pity type of friendship.  That year was really nice.  I was still fat, still painfully shy, still self-conscious, but she liked me.  She even asked me to be in her wedding.  Excuse me.  Her WHAT?

I was devastated when I found out she was moving.  I just find a good friend and now she is LEAVING?!?!  You know what I learned about true friendships, though?  It doesn't matter WHERE you are geographically.  What matters is that you are always there for the other person no matter what.

I was cleaning out files last week and came across some letters that I got the first year she was married and lived in Tennessee.  I took the time to read over them because it was too funny not too.  In addition to those letters, I found other ones.  Some had pictures, like the one I got right after I became an "auntie."  Or the ones with pictures of us "hiding" Easter eggs in the freaking cold!  Cards that she made me or sent me when I was down or just because.  Cards that she sent me right after my mom died.  She is the one person outside of my family that I know without a shadow of a doubt I can call at anytime of any day and she will always take time for me.  No matter what.

She is to blame for me coffee addiction as much as I think I am to blame for her yarn addiction.  I'm not the only "yarn ho", Freddie. ;)

Her family treats me as one of their own (well, most of them anyway. ;) ) and I feel that I have helped raise her daughter (even though she didn't like me when she was a baby.  lol!)  I am always welcome at her house, even with my diva girlie.

So I am sure by now you can see why she is my best friend and why, if she was the only friend I had left, I would be more blessed than just about anyone.

Love you bunches, L, and will always, always, always be there for you, no matter what. ;)


On a completed unrelated note.  miss raven is not feeling well today.  I came home this afternoon and there was a mess in the living room.  She NEVER does that.  NEVER.  I had to cajole her into eating her supper tonight.  She ate a little and did eat her cookie so that was good.  She has been outside several times and all times she barked like a little fiend.  She is happy because I FINALLY got the jungle mowed for her so the weeds aren't whipping her in the face.  I feel a little silly asking this, but....please pray that when I take her to the doctor tomorrow, they will find nothing wrong with her.  I am praying that it is just something simple.  Maybe like the heat that we have been going through the last few days.  She has had tummy issues for the last few years but the vet never seemed to think it was anything serious.  I am just hoping and praying that they are still right about that.  I can't bear to think of losing this sweet little face:

She is too precious to me.  I promise to let you know what the doctor says.