Happy birthday to my dearest, oldest friend, Lucky 10-Key! Okay, so she’s not the OLDEST. I mean she has been my friend the longest out of all my friends. Lucky 10-Key is the first friend I made on my very own. We weren’t playpen friends, family friends, or god sisters. I met her in third grade and we’ve been two neurotic, shopaholic peas in a pod ever since.
To celebrate you, I present my list of the top ten Lucky 10-Key and Girl Friday moments (in no order except chronological):
4-H Camp: We made t-shirts with sponge paint and ceramic paperweights. I think we were in the Ponderosa cabin that first year, the second is a little fuzzy. We were miserable, but at least we had each other.
Sixth grade talent show: We did ballet en pointe to Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers.” It was a bit ambitious for the same forum in which the Ryans and/or the Nicks did a routine to Bel Biv DeVoe’s “Poison.”
Drama: The class and the years I will refer to as HELL (aka Junior High). Enough said. You were there. (This includes skater boys with hats and girls with big pie holes.)
Acceptance letters: You got yours and I got mine. We didn’t talk about them. We made up our minds. We ended up at the same school. The two girls who played under walnut trees and ran jog-a-thons grew up!
Red wine: We drank the whole bottle after The Loop. We went to the same college and were in the same sorority, but we had totally different experiences. I think the wine saved us from drifting apart even further. I really needed you for the next one.
Starbucks: How much coffee did we consume that summer in our zeal to be out of the house? How many times did we run into women with big pie holes? I’m glad you were with me. You made me brave.
Your interview: I read that entire novel (which wasn’t very good, by the way) in that café while I was waiting for you. I was worried a bum had snatched you up. I was glad you got the job, but I was sad when you moved away.
New York: It’s our place, babe. Thanks for inviting me to tag along. I hope I have been a good travel companion. I only got us lost a few times, and really, stopping off in Butik was fate not poor map-reading skills. Because of you I was able to trash the free Bill Rancic tickets my coworker was trying to give me today. I said, “I met him at a party. He’s a total tool.” Okay, maybe we didn’t actually talk to him…
Writing and stuff: Whether it’s notes we passed or notebooks that shall remain hidden in my closet, we’re always writing something. Thanks for being supportive and even letting me share things I’m sure you would have preferred to stay private. I really know that I need to post something if you’re complaining! Now we have that story going, too. I need to work on that!
Punk Cabaret: The Dresden Dolls concert, part deux. It was awesome and I’m glad I got to share it with you! Amanda is no Mariah Carey or Nirvana (oh, the many stages of our music!) but she rocks in her own right. And so do you.
I hope you aren’t mortified by this nostalgic list! I just wanted to say…hey, you’re pretty rad!