There is good.
My friend and I talked yesterday. Well, she talked, I cried.
We did manage to have a few laughs, though. Mostly at my expense. Like how on the day of my interview it was storming like crazy, I didn't have an umbrella and I showed up looking like a drowned rat, and towel dried my hair for the first three minutes of my interview with A PANEL OF SIX PEOPLE. And how the power was out and the conference room was dark and I couldn't even see the people who were interviewing me. How I got the job, I still don't know.
And the time we were in Washington DC on business and we went to a bar and faked southern accents (BADLY, I might add) the entire night.
And how I had to explain to her what "poony" meant.
The time we were in San Francisco and she had sangria for the first time and POUNDED it "this is GOOD!" and then could barely walk out of the restaurant. And when she called home that night from the hotel she made ME do most of the talking with her husband and son because she didn't want them to know she was drunk.
It hurts so much to know what she's going through, but I'm thankful that we are able to put any shit from the past behind us and only remember the good and the funny.
"Seriously, Girl. I think about you sitting there trying to come up with a delicate definition of 'poony' and I start laughing all over again - SIX YEARS LATER."
We did manage to have a few laughs, though. Mostly at my expense. Like how on the day of my interview it was storming like crazy, I didn't have an umbrella and I showed up looking like a drowned rat, and towel dried my hair for the first three minutes of my interview with A PANEL OF SIX PEOPLE. And how the power was out and the conference room was dark and I couldn't even see the people who were interviewing me. How I got the job, I still don't know.
And the time we were in Washington DC on business and we went to a bar and faked southern accents (BADLY, I might add) the entire night.
And how I had to explain to her what "poony" meant.
The time we were in San Francisco and she had sangria for the first time and POUNDED it "this is GOOD!" and then could barely walk out of the restaurant. And when she called home that night from the hotel she made ME do most of the talking with her husband and son because she didn't want them to know she was drunk.
It hurts so much to know what she's going through, but I'm thankful that we are able to put any shit from the past behind us and only remember the good and the funny.
"Seriously, Girl. I think about you sitting there trying to come up with a delicate definition of 'poony' and I start laughing all over again - SIX YEARS LATER."
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