Let me introduce you to ‘The Bestie’

People & Places 

Over the years here at the News-Bulletin, I’ve written a lot of these columns. Cats, kids, appliances, vehicles and health have often taken center stage. I’ve written about my ex-husband, my parents and coworkers. I’ve written about things that matter and subjects that are utterly ridiculous.  

As I sat staring at the blank “page” Monday morning, rummaging through the mental back drawer of bad and discarded column ideas, a text from my best friend popped up. What is said isn’t really germane, but it made me realize that after all these years I’ve not mentioned her. 

So my peeps, I give you The Bestie. 

The origin story of our friendship goes back to our college days, circa 1992. Coming back from class one day, as I crossed through the lounge in our dorm, I said something flippant and rather rude to her roommate. The exchange caught her attention so she followed me back to my room. (The Bestie, not the roommate.) 

Apparently my willingness to swear at her roommate was viewed as a good quality and well … that was that. I stared silently as this wild-haired, tanned, lithe woman told me a hilarious story about unsuccessfully running away from a swarm of jelly fish in the shallows of the Florida Keys.  

She graduated a couple years ahead of me, but we kept in touch sporadically. In the 1900s, contact was maintained by infrequent phone calls, scattered emails and literal letters — handwritten with a stamp and the whole nine yards.  

Fast forward to now and it’s a blizzard of texts, Reels, TikToks and even Pinterest posts that keep us up to date on each other.  

She’s fond of telling me we’ve been friends for more than three decades. That particular phrasing just sounds so long. Like, it’s literally more than half our lives. It’s wild that someone has put up with me that long, to be quite honest. 

Our lives have had some weird parallels in terms of relationships, milestones and experiences. Being contemporaries, that shouldn’t be surprising, but it’s not something I’ve experienced with other friends who are my age.  

We’ve supported each other through losses of many kinds, cheered on each others successes and, on more than one occasion, questioned the others mental stability. She runs half marathons — in a tutu on more than one occasion. Who does that? 

As adults, we’ve managed to vacation together and had adventures of the best kind, as well as semi-mundane but still weird experiences. Have you ever hunted down galvanized tubs to use to chill champagne at a showcase for very expensive, luxury RVs in Las Vegas? They’re at Tractor Supply, by the way, nowhere near the Strip. 

She always gives the best gifts — from explosively sparkly lip gloss to tiny jars of magnificent honey. Wacky cards arrive in my mailbox, apropos of nothing other than it made her cackle wildly and she knew I’d do the same. 

Her heart knows no end to giving love, for both the humans and animals in her life. I cannot tell you how many of her stories start with, “So I was driving and saw this dog on the road … and … well …”  

Of course she stopped in the middle of the highway, in the rain (always in the rain) and convinced some drenched, scared, probably half-feral canine to let her help. 

Sometimes I worry I am the lesser friend in this relationship. The one who doesn’t give enough, who doesn’t pay attention to the details, but she swears on her 42 ounce cup of iced tea that I’m wonderful and amazing. I’m not sure I’m all that, but she’s my sunshine in the rain and my rabid daisy. Forever wild and wonderful, in an impeccably styled outfit.