I am taking a trip with my friend.
She isn’t just any friend; she’s a since-freshman-year-in-high-school friend.
She brings out the best in me because she is everything I’m not: lighthearted in attitude, carefree in spirit, and open to the world on first instinct. She finds the ridiculous in life and shares it with me. She laughingly chides me for my intensity and sheds light into the dark corners of my thoughts. She has seen me at my worst and is still my friend.
We have flowed in and out of each others’ lives easily and happily since the days we parked behind the DeMolay building watching the Sophomore Studs, giggling with adolescent dreams and desires. I smoked my first and last cigar at her slumber party and had to walk home because I was embarrassed to be sick at her house. I helped her with her “job” cleaning her family’s business office (when janitoring seemed like fun) while I watched the burgeoning romance that flowered into the love of her life. She took care of my children when I didn’t have a sitter. She poured wine and listened to me when I learned my sister was dying. She invited me on my first travel adventure.
And did I mention that it was all FUN? I smile when I think of her and laugh when I’m with her. My cheeks hurt from laughing.
It’s great to plan another trip when everything is exciting. Somehow we have channeled the enthusiasm of our youth into our anticipation of adventure. We’re scared silly (will that young stylist make me look like my mother?), but eager, to get our hair cut in Nick Arrojo’s salon. We have a list of favorite foods from chefs on the Food Network and we’ll gleefully hunt for sinfully delicious treasure. We’ll go to the Jimmy Fallon Show even though we had to tape his show to know who he is. We may even purposefully miss our flight to be at the Dr. Oz Show.
We’ll get lost on the subways and walk for miles in search of a bargain. We’ll go to museums and comedy clubs. We’ll gaze up at the skyscrapers because we live in small towns (even though we have each traveled the world). We’ll talk ourselves to sleep at night, reliving the joys and sorrows of our lives. We’ll laugh until our sides ache.
Maybe on our way back we’ll plan another trip.