Friday, July 22, 2005
She's only seventeeeeeen!
I'm pretty sure that's how old Kendra and I were in this picture.
Twelve years later, here we are. REAL CLOSE to entering our 30s -- we've marked every landmark birthday together so far, and 30 will be no different. Becki calls her a "foul-weather friend" because she's so great when you're feeling down. She's hilarious and witty and even after all this time, there are few people that can make me laugh as much as she does. Our conversations have changed over time, but somehow, there is always a part of us that can quickly revert back to the silliness of high school. We always joke that one day, our kids are going to simply roll their eyes and be like "that's how they ALWAYS are," because we've embarassed them with our behavior so many times. We clean up well, don't get me wrong, but there's always going to be an inordinate amount of laughing involved.
She will ream you up and down for a bad decision you made, but if anyone ELSE dares to tell you the same thing, she'll defend you up and down. She always sends Christmas cards, and always has birthday cards. She's been a bridesmaid a million times, because the bride always knows who will be the most organized and take the best care of her -- it's Kendra. She's "the drunk dialing bandit," but it's somehow endearing because the messages she leaves are priceless.
Kendra and I fight more than any of our other friends combined. It's because we're so alike and because what annoys us in ourselves annoys us in each other. And it's also because we're so close. Since the rest of our girls have moved and/or gotten married, she and I have gotten closer to each other. We live 3 minutes apart -- she lives in the house she lived in in high school, and I live a mile from my parents' house, across the street from our high school. I talk to her pretty much at least once a day. We are like that old married couple who finishes each other's sentences and is so irritating because the conversations go something like:
"Hey, remember when we --"
"-- went to that place -- "
"-- yeah, and did that one thing -"
"-- oh my god, that was SO funny."
Our idea of hanging out is being in the same house, but one of us is reading a magazine/watching t.v./doing laundry and the other one is taking a nap/painting her toenails/surfing the internet. We can order for each other at our favorite restaurants and never have conversations like "what kind of pizza should we order" because it's a given. Neither of us can believe that the other one's much younger sibling is no longer two years old -- it's just not possible. Kendra could hang out at my parents' house without me with no problem, and I could do the same with her parents. Though her status with my mom was briefly threatened after the "JFC Debacle of '99," it's a mark of how awesome Kendra is that my mom will still always hug her first when we walk in the door. There are a million other things, but suffice it to say, if you have a best friend, you know where I'm coming from.
So in honor of her upcoming birthday extravaganza tomorrow night, I'm posting a memory. And if I know Kendra (and I do) there will be another memory in picture form to post on Monday, after the party. Which is a good thing, because if I know Kendra (and I do) she's gonna need some pictures to remember. I foresee that we'll be at her house on Sunday, in what we have so aptly named "the hangover basement."
Happy Birthday to you, Kendra! I love you!!