Two January’s ago, I interviewed a girl for a contracted position on our Communication team at work. Seemingly competent, very tan, appropriately fidgety, and having just graduated with her Master’s degree, she was the perfect candidate to help our team out. In between her hiring and today, April 7, we slowly became friends (over a mutual love of old country songs, the Judds, the movie Stepbrothers, throwing rocks for punishment, and soon enough, a love for Kings of Leon as she wore me down) and quickly realized our similarities and haven’t stopped high-fiving since. Everyone in our company knows that if one of us is near, the other isn’t too far and so help you if you cross us.
What remains of this post is an open letter to her, my best pal Rachel, on her birthday:
Dear Rachel Felise,
I remember meeting you and never putting it together that we’d be those girls…the ones like on Sex and the City who take best friendships seriously and engrain themselves in one another’s lives. It’s truly special to have. But here we are! You know when I need to buy ketchup or mustard, and THAT is impressive to know when we have a shortage of condiments in our house. Our guest room is named after you.
Among the many good things you do for me (and Brian too), the best thing you do is give the most loyal love and friendship; a rare find as an adult, even though we usually act like we’re 12. (Big thanks to Brian for putting up with us more often than not, ahem.) 2012 was a rough year on many levels. Details aren’t needed, we were both there to experience the ups and downs, and to pick one another back up when the downs really struck us to the floor. As for me, they struck hard and fast, and sometimes you were there to just help me breathe and to remind me the world wasn’t caving in. I can’t thank you enough for that. And for washing and scrubbing our baseboards when we first moved into this house. That nasty, small task meant more to me and my anxiety than you know.
As for our hobbies, this picture really sums it up. We had just done a Warrior Dash in which we skipped the last “warrior” event of swimming through mud. Thankfully we weren’t too dirty or worn out to go on a road trip with those tall camo Busch’s. I think it really topped off the day…more 5K’s should end like that. We’ve started golfing more and more, and I feel like we could be those old ladies out golfing while our husbands are somewhere in front of us taking it way more seriously than we are. But we’ll still take it seriously enough to keep score and get really mad when one of us loses. Some people might call that competitive…I call it good, healthy fun. I also think tanning in your parent’s pool dozens of time this summer with Taco Ranger’s full of wine and spirits will be pretty awesome too. You know they hold an entire bottle…
This letter has no real point, other to say that I’ve been reminscing all day about the shenanigans we’ve gotten into and the fun trips we’ve taken together in just two short years. Our annual Sarasota trip is an adventure, and I’m so glad we’re nearly like locals now. Only a few more trips to Oh My Gauze! and we’ll really blend in. I’ve thought about how much fun we have just going to Target, or even sitting around the house watching Harry Potter (oh my god I am so ready for you to finish the books so we can watch all eight movies AGAIN!) in between sitting in the garage on lawn chairs in our matching ponchos. We. are. super. cool.
I hope on this birthday you know how brilliant and endearing you are. I couldn’t ask for a better friend, someone who knows me better than I know myself sometimes. You’re the Dale to my Brennan. I love you pal; happiest birthday to you and many more.