Archive for the 'best friends' Category

1,080 = not enough

Mike once told me to cherish my last few semesters in college. He told me to go out and have a drink–even when I should be studying– because those moments are the ones I will remember and in a few short months they won’t ever be in my life again. (and this was during an interview for an internship—-> thanks for the slacker advice (at least that’s what I thought at the time!) )

When he said this to me I was a junior and kind of shrugged it off and thought to myself “ehhhh, why is he being so sentimental about all of this, it’s just the end of college.” I thought about it: College is only a mere four years of my life– after spending 18 years creating relationships and sharing experiences with people from home how could only mere 1,080 days even compare?

Now, this might come as a shock to you but I am not always right.

I know, breathe in, breathe out…we are going to get through this together. I am sure that was hard to hear. I should have warned you.

And let me just add that there there are times (although seldom) when I am very, very, very wrong. Here, in this case, when Mike was trying to give me the best advice EVER I blew it off.

Bad move, LB, bad move.

During the first week of the semester I kept wondering why I felt like such a slacker. I was going to all of my classes but I was not organized and I wasn’t worried about not being organized. As the weeks progressed I have manged to get done what I need to get done but I still don’t feel like I am all here–in the classroom. I would much rather be in my living room talking about “our people,” our days, our pasts, our futures, watching excellent T.V. programs like “Redneck Weddings” with my roommates or just being with Mifflin— going out to eat, folding laundry, attempting to keep that boy’s room clean, all of which (surprisingly) has meant more to me than those events ever have.

If I hadn’t come six hours away to the Happy Valley I would have NEVER met Emily, Heather, Mifflin and who knows where Sally and my relationship would stand four years after high school (and the fact that she doesn’t live in CT anymore). And I only list these four people but there are quite a few more I have been extremely close to over these past four years– and honestly when will I see them again after May?

At least my high school friends and I all have the same hometown. Emily is from the ‘burgh, Heather is from New Mexico, Sally is now from State College and Mifflin is from Indiana—will we all ever be in the same place again? Probably not, and that is really sad to think about.

I am fully confident I will graduate in May–even if I continue to be as unorganized as I am today– and I am ready. But everyday, with every sip of a Bud Select, with every repeated episode of “America’s Next Top Model” with every4 minute drive to see the people I love I realize how much has happened to me and to us all in these past four years.

There were times here at Penn State when I was not of the fan of the person I was but without those feelings I would not have become the person I am really digging now 🙂

So for these next few months I will continue to enjoy every moment with these people, in this apartment, at these bars and in this Valley because sometimes I think

this is all I got.

And although that can sound sad and maybe even a little lonely, I couldn’t be happier to feel this way about these people and this place.

So Mike, I listened to you before but now, I hear you 🙂

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My car isn’t in my driveway.

I woke up this morning in my comfy bed butt-ass naked with a towel on my head.

(How was that for an opening line? )

What the hell did I do last night?

Last night was Erin’s 22nd birthday. So, to celebrate we went to see Juno (hilarious, btw)  and then we went to this fabulous restaurant in Mystic, AZU. It was a night to celebrate Erin and was designed to be filled with delicious desserts and very expensive drinks, because we love her and we like to feel classy and chic on our minimum wage working- college girl budgets. We started with a shot.  Thanks waiter…all his idea. Then that was followed by a martini for each of us. Followed by dessert. Followed by 3 more martini’s and two more shots. Which was then followed by the biggest tab I have ever had to pay in my life. Fabulous. I’m probably going to be sick just from writing that….

And we weren’t done. We then made our way down to the Irish pub. I believe I had a cider here…this is where it apparently hits me and hits me hard. We ran into a high school friend at the pub, which was nice. I remember at one point singing Stevie Wonder’s version of “Happy Birthday” and impressing the older people at the pub with the fact that I knew it. Go me. I am so thoroughly embarrassed for myself.

Do I remember walking to Megan’s car? Nope. Not at all. (and don’t worry, Megan was our DD)  Do I remember how I got into my house last night? Nope. Not at all. Do I remember sticking my head out of Megan’s window to puke? Ehhhhh. Yes. Do I remember taking a shower and being in a lot of dumb drunken pain—and crying for my mom? Ehhhh. Yes. Vaguely.

So this morning at 8 a.m. I received two texts from Mifflin: “WAKE UP RIGHT NOW” Ehhhhhhhhhhhh, I’m hurting so bad what could he want?  Apparently I called him 3,444 times and sent him blank texts. Awesome. At least some of might was coming back to me at this point…mostly the fact that I needed to put on some clothes…

I looked in the bathroom. Clothes everywhere. Bra in the shower. Water still running, a little bit. Al Gore and Leo would be pissed, please don’t tell them.

Clearly, I am a disaster.

I head downstairs for water and to shove a slice of bread down my throat, a savior in these kinds of situations. I explained my “story” or lack there of to my mom. She laughed at me, made sure I had a DD…oh, mom… and told me to go back to sleep. Yes, ma’am.

Back into bed. I told Mifflin to wake me up at 10, he called I explained what I could/ apologized for being an annoying drunk, he laughed and said I didn’t drink that much (No Mifflin, I drank too much, don’t do that kids– it’s 8 p.m. and I am still in pain) and then called Megan.

Megan informed me that they brought me into my house. Through the back door. Apparently we couldn’t open the garage door. After checking my cell phone I realize why…I “called” my garage door in an attempt to open it. Yes, I dialed the code to open the garage door on my cell phone. Ehhhhhhhhhhh. LB. Clearly that wasn’t going to work out.

Megan also told me that she drove our high school friend home…he lives in the next town over…I totally missed that event.  She also let me know that my car was still at Erin’s. I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHERE MY CAR WAS. I just figured it was in the driveway. It was not.

Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I have yet to pick the Vdub up. I should get on that.

I hope you had a much classier weekend.

I am really debating erasing this post now…ehhhh please don’t judge me! Maybe this will get some of you to share your worst/best hangover stories…maybe?!

Once again, lesson (s) learned.

Phizzle

Tomorrow one of my best friends comes home for the holidays.

Phil apparently had a crush on me in middle school. I remember we were at a dance and his mom and my mom were trying to convince him to dance with me. He wouldn’t. And I was too busy bumping and grinding it 12-year-old style on the dance flo’ with some guys who turned out to be real winners, nine years later.

Ehhhhhh.

Phil and I stayed acquaintances. He went through a rough time in middle school but I always thought he was a cool kid. There was just something about him I always admired. Always.

We ended up having a class together in high school and that was when we started the friendship we have today. We would travel to away basketball games together. Just us. We went out to eat, to the movies, hung out at home, met up with people. Over the course of the years he has driven me home on many a drunk occasion. He takes care of me.

Then we fell apart.

He didn’t say goodbye to me before I went to college. I was crushed. We were best friends and I was moving 6 hours away from home and I thought he didn’t care.

I went to college and he stayed home. He had planned on joining the Marines. I didn’t want him to, but I wouldn’t tell him that. It was his dream, I supported him. But “luckily” he injured his back and wasn’t ready to go to boot camp. This crushed him.

I would call him from PA a lot. He would say things like “You took the easy way out by going to college.” WHAT?! He wasn’t supporting me any more…I couldn’t see that he was in pain because things weren’t going as planned.

Eventually I stopped talking to him because I couldn’t figure him out. And he stopped talking to me.

I was online one day and his neighbor Doc IMed me. “Phil and Dan (his brother) are leaving for boot camp tomorrow” he typed.

I couldn’t let Phil go to boot camp thinking that I wasn’t so proud of him. So I called him.

This is when I knew we were always going to be best friends. You know those people you can call after not talking for months, or even years and pick up right where you left off? That’s what that conversation was all about.

Over the course of the next year I wrote letters to that Marine and kept in contact with his mom, love that lady!

I think I have maybe only seen him twice in the past two years. Which is very weird.

Last March he left for Iraq. I was not a fan. I got a text the night before he had to leave (which was a little over a week before his 21st birthday). He told me he didn’t want to spend his 21st birthday there and we basically decided it wasn’t cool. My heart hurt so bad for him. I know he is proud to be a Marine (the few, the proud!) but he had also grown up a lot since high school and with maturing most realize that war is a scary thing.

I only sent him one package when he was in Iraq. But I kept in touch with him through Motomail, the best invention on the face of the planet! And I even received phone calls from over there. He made my day. Just to hear him was a relief. I would immediately e-mail his mom to tell her I heard from him. And I was honored he wanted to chat it up with me, told you I have always admired this kid!

Phil is family. I love him. He makes me cry whenever I get to see him and give him a hug.

Phil is my brother from another mother 🙂 I guess that is the best way to describe us.

He is coming home tomorrow. I can’t wait for the hug, and the tears AND a “The Office” marathon complete with a beer (or 20) for my 21-year-old Marine brother.

In West Philadelphia…

born and raised.

Go ‘head you know the rest.

Wait?! If you don’t… ehhhhhh.

Will Smith? “Fresh Prince?” Anyone?!

In a few hours I am headed to Philly the home of Big Willie.

Just so you know Philadelphia is now known as the Illadelph. Oh shitttttty. I kind of like that. And I don’t want you to be a loser–you know trying to be cool and calling it Philly.

The goal is to get in to the City of Brotherly Love just in time for happy hour at Brownie’s. Apparently its a good time. I will report back on that one.

I am embarking on this journey of journey’s as co-pilot to Miss SallyJo. This means I am in charge of CDs. We are going to go through a lot of old school LB Xclusives let me tell you that. Hey, who knows, me might even jam out our Alto part to our high school chorus CD. This is really sad but it has happened. Just hope you don’t have to witness it…ask HDC.

Why are we heading to the Illadelph?

For the Penn State v. Temple game, of course. Officially the LAST game I will witness as a student and coincidentally my first away game. I am feeling pretty dedicated to the Nittany Lions right now! But so are approx. 70,000 other students and PSU fans. Isn’t that crazy? They expect the Eagle’s stadium to be filled with more PSU alumni, fans and students than Temple fans. We alone or as a group can be pretty overwhelming.

WE ARE…PENN STATE!

Happy Hour Valley will also be tailgating in Philly—I wonder if we will see each other and not even know it….crazy! I’m glad he gets a break from Law School though we all need to feel the PSU love every now and then!

As an added bonus to this trip I am staying with my best friend Megan. You know the card sender?! I haven’t seen her since summer so this will be oh so wonderful 🙂

OK! I still have to pack. Make some boom bangin’ CDs. And clean my room.

And don’t worry I’ll be back for DJ Killa Kaos (did I tell you I love him!?) on Saturday night—-please, I need to celebrate our win back in State College! After a shower of course…I will need to wipe off the nasty Eagles Stadium residue—

GO STEELERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mail Time

To begin with, let’s just get over the fact that it is 10:38 p.m. on a Friday night and I am at my computer writing a post. I just can’t go out unless I write one, ok?

Not true.

The truth is I decided to be responsible. But I will be out in the State College craziness tomorrow night–AFTER WE BEAT NOTRE DAME.

T-Shirts Floating Around Campus:

“I Don’t Give A Notre Dame.”

“Notre Lame”

and my personal favorite, a new one:

“They’ve got Jesus. We’ve got JoePa”

Moving on to my real post for the night. Whatever happened to writing letters and sending cards? It’s the best feeling in the world to get them in your mailbox. Even if it says something simple. Or something not so simple…

There is something you have to understand about me I have 3 best friends. (and they are better than your best friends :)) One in particular who is an amazing card sender. She manages to send them at the most perfect times—and she doesn’t even know it.

I wrote a while ago about how awesome my 2007 is going. Or not so much. In Febuary I recieved a card from Megan. After I upwrapped the string that held the chabby-chic, floral designed card shut I read the following: “LB- I LOVE YOU! Love, Megan”

That is all I needed at that time. Perfect.

And just recently I recieved a card with a photograph of three little girls hugging that read “Who’s to say why friends last-I’m just glad they do.” Megan wrote:

“Like I said, the beginning of the (school) year always reminds me of the sleepover in 7th grade that you invited me to at the bus stop. In a way, this time of the year is like the anniversary of our friendship. So, happy 9th aniversary best friend! I love you and I am so glad to have you in my life. I hope your first week of senior year (YIKES!) is going well. Don’t work too hard on your marthon training and LSAT studying! I miss you! Love always and forever, Megan”

I told you I have the best friends. And it’s little notes like this that help me put my life into perspective.

So in honor of our 9 fabulous years of being best friends Megan I am going to write YOU a letter. Right now. But while you wait to receive your letter on the other side of PA know that I love you too. And there is no doubt in my mind that we have another 9 years ahead of us—and I’m excited about what is to come!