Once upon a time, about 10-12 years ago, there was this really obnoxious girl.
I kind of super hated her.
My family was the only one by this big apartment complex, and because we had a pretty nice sized yard with a cool swing set, it wasn't uncommon for the kids living in the apartments to come over and play. (We'd have at least 15 to 20 kids over on a regular basis.) And seeing as I was the oldest girl playing in our yard, I was in charge.
I was the Queen Bee. The neighborhood was my turf. I owned the joint, see?
And then there was this girl. Her family moved up from LA into a house down the street from us, and since we were about the same age, our parents thought it would be a great idea for us to be friends. Well... we weren't; in fact, we took a pretty much instant dislike to each other.
She was used to being in charge, and I was also used to being in charge. So she'd come down to our house to "play," and she'd try to take over. She'd make up rules, she'd boss the apartment kids around, she thought she knew everything. Excuse me? That was my job! I made up the rules! I bossed people around! I knew everything! I was the queen bee! And this... this twerp was invading my kingdom!
This rivalry went on for a good, oh I don't know, four or five years? We didn't fight constantly, but we definitely had strong opinions about how things should be run, and there was a certain cattiness when we disagreed. (We disagreed a lot.)
It was a hard-fought battle for supremacy.
Then when we were about twelve, both of our families started doing home remodels at the same time. We took out a wall, they added a bigger kitchen... You know how it is: exhausting, stressful, dust every-freaking-where. UGH.
Anyway, the same guy who was working on their house was working on ours. He was a jerk. He was unprofessional and rude, and had mood swings worse than a teenage girl. (Like, bro, get a grip.) So, he eventually ended up swindling both our families, he quit, threw a few tantrums, he called my mom some interesting names... (Like let me tell you, I almost hit him with a hammer, because NO ONE TALKS TO MY MOMMY LIKE THAT, CAPISCE?)
And that was when this obnoxious, bossy girl and I finally had something in common.
"You hate him!? I ALSO HATE HIM!"
Sammi and I have been best friends ever since.
Sammi is family.
She's my best pal, we've seen each other through thick and thin, from mutual hate of the handyman, to her being a solid brick wall of support when my family went through some killer hard times back in 2012.
From her dealing with my downright creepy obsession with Dean Winchester to her losing her dad to cancer a couple years ago.
We've seen each other through the best of times, to the worst of times, from when she won the Tahoe's Got Talent competition, (which is why she now has the nickname Liquid Velvet) to mutual emotional breakdowns over stress and personal issues.
I was there when she tried to use curlers to style her hair like the forties. (Which ultimately resulted in an afro)
She was there when I made the poor choice to be Rainbow Dash for Halloween, and ended up with a very orange head, and a very brown braid. (To which I repeat: Never. Again.)
But literally every time I needed her, she's been there, because that's just who she is.
Yesterday, she packed up her car and she headed off to college, and she's going to be eight hours away for quite a long time. She's studying to be a worship leader, and honestly, I couldn't be prouder.
She's off being all grown up and fabulous, and I'm like, "Ra ra ra! You can do it!"
But in the back of my mind I'm like, "Ugh, this is the longest time ever we've gone without seeing each other, how am I supposed to deal with this nonsense?"
Mostly, I'm proud of her.
That other 20% is already ready for her to come back.
Just feeling a little melancholy, and I do not want my best friend to be gone.
SO UGH. She's coming home for Thanksgiving, which I think is a good plan, because A.) I miss her, and B.) I miss her. Until then I intend to keep her occupied with texts and messages and snapchats, because I have a prescription grade need for attention.
When's Thanksgiving again?