Okay, NOT an ode to the BFF. I don’t do poetry. I’m all about prose. But I’ve always wanted to say “ode to” something.
Anyway, today is my best friend’s birthday, and, um – not at all due to any pressure or diva-like behavior or anything – I would like to dedicate a post to her.
You know I love lists. So here are my top five favorite things about my BFF:
5. We haven’t lived in the same city for the last ten years, and life often gets in the way of keeping in close contact. But whenever we talk, I know I’ve come “home”.
4. She knows what my passions are, and she always supports me 150%. And vice versa. It’s kind of amazing to have a peer who thinks that you will rock whatever you undertake. Doesn’t just say she thinks you’ll rock, actually believes it, even when you don’t quite believe it yourself.
3. We know all about each other’s dirty laundry, a.k.a. skeletons in the closet. Comes in handy when one of us is navigating some kind of I’m-DYING-while-perched-JUST-SO-on-a-chaise-longue type of dramatic episode. And we totally pretend not to judge each other. You just can’t buy that kind of love.
2. We always remind each other, when no one else will, how irresistibly fabulous we are, what we’re capable of, and what we don’t need to put up with.
1. We’ve experienced oodles of blackmail-worthy moments together – and after all this time – cities apart, divergent lives notwithstanding – I STILL know we have each other’s backs. We would never sell each other out to anyone, and we’d probably still risk a full-out fight with some asshole at our fave bar if he threatened one of us – uh…not that this has ever happened before.
As a bonus, I should add that my number one favorite thing to do with BFF is something we sadly haven’t done since the summers of our teens – or early to mid-twenties at the very latest: stalk our crushes. I know how that sounds…but it’s all perfectly harmless, I promise! Our houses were a minute’s walk from each other, and we used to take long evening walks through the suburban area that we lived in (which is where most of our friends and classmates lived), and after dark, we’d stake out the houses where we knew guys we were infatuated with lived. All you women in your thirties, admit it. You’ve all done it, too – sneaking around their property, around the house to the backyard, giggling hysterically as you tried to catch a glimpse of them in a window…then flying out of there like a bat out of hell when you realized windows were open and the house’s inhabitants might be able to hear you and were approaching the window…good times. The best part was laughing and obsessing with your best friend, breathing in the balmy night air, and feeling like anything was possible. Was it risky? Perhaps. Was it creepy? Debatable. Was it fun? Unbelievably! In the same way that an empty box can be riveting to a toddler, these stake-outs were always a source of endless amusement for two dreamy-eyed teenage girls.
So here’s to the BFF, and here’s to many more years of love, laughter and blackmail-worthy moments. I’m sure she’s working on one of those moments as we speak.