Today, my friend Sar sent me a text. She knows me so so well and her text made me quite glad. Not just because of what she said, but because she knew to say it. (it's the friends you can, on any given day, text N Sync lyrics to that matter, right?) ... (that wasn't what the text said this time though).
Anyway, I just was thinking how dearly I adore my good amiga and thought I'd blog about my friends from time to time. I can call it "Friends Friday" or something kitschy like that.
Let me tell you all about Sar. We have been friends for a long while. I call her Sar because, once upon a time, in the forth grade, we both watched a Hallmark Original Movie (I'm thinking it was called, "Follow the Stars Home" or something. Maybe.) Anyway, the next day, when we discovered this I was talking like one of the girls in the movie (who apparently drops the ends of her words totally off and changes the vowel sound - right. Not likely.) It's been love ever since.
On Senior Trip. Little did we know what awaited us...
Sar is an incredibly talented musician (which she probably gets from Aunt Vicki - Mo-Tab Soprano extraordinaire). Her voice is just stunning - not exaggerating. It was my goal in high school to get her to try out for American Idol. And she can play the piano extremely well. I've been pretty jealous of that on occasion.
The Gunnersons have the world's best cabin! I love it. I've been there often and have never ever had less than a wonderful time.This one time that we went there, we had to trudge through feet and feet of snow to get there. It was one of the BEST things we've ever done. This was probably the time that the winter bathroom's door froze open. Once there, we roast things outside, listen to top-notch tunes, or record our visit in the Cabin Log Book (I wrote one. Twas very colorful.) I LOVE Sar's cabin. LOVE.
At said cabin.
My friend Sar gets me. Which is so nice. I wish we saw each other more, but even though we don't, we can pick up exactly like we've never been apart. No awkwardness, no fidgety language. We can be really weird together (and have the video footage to prove it) and can have pretty darn deep discussions as well.
The first time I ever cried about a boy, I went to Sar's. And thank goodness she lived right across the street. I've decided since that Sar has this neato nurturing quality about her. Because when bad stuff happens or I feel alone, sometimes I just want to talk to Sar. Cause, like I said, she gets me. :] And she's going to be a fantastic mommy. I bet her nieces and nephews agree.
Look how enthusiastic I am.
I have a thousand memories that have to do with her so it's difficult to pick one to share.
Sar and I both love books. A lot. (She might have been the very first person I talked to after I finished Catching Fire today. SO GOOD.) I remember one Saturday that was dark and snowy all day long. We made a fire in Sar's family room fireplace, ate cookies, and read Little Women. She and I have done many many things together; road-trips, theme parks, and high school for crying out loud. But, in some kind of poetic way, that is the memory that I choose when I think of Sar.
... The "vinegah", ketchup blood, and spatula murder night is a very close second... But seriously. I have a million-thousand. I'm fighting to keep them down.
And she is so funny.
So, Sar. My dearest. I love you. I hope that you already know that, but just in case here is a grand sweeping emotional post about you.