Don't hate me for the Barry. David gave me Xanadu, I'm just sharing the love.
So, happy 31st birthday, Sarah. *sigh*
Sarah, wow. Man. Oi.
I met Sarah, um, 7 years ago or so at a baby shower. I just didn't realize I met her until a few months ago when I met her again. Online. This is becoming a habit for me.
Sometimes, you make these friends, and then life moves you on, and moves them on, too, and those friends make new friends and then it gets all weird and complicated, because usually, at least in my world, those new friends don't mesh with the old friends. Well, Molly is that friend. Sarah is that-that friend. Sarah was, on that fateful baby shower day, one of Molly's new friends. A college friend. A kid-less friend. A not-stupid-high-school friend. A big fat threat to all I held dear with my BFF. I remember that day, feeling weird and awkward and small and totally insecure. 'Cause, see, I loves me some Molly and I was afraid that as I stood in that room I was losing her. Losing her to cooler, more traveled, funnier, cuter people.
This sort of thinking caused me 7 long, hard, dull years without a girl I think I will never go a week without now.
Sarah, I love you, baby. I love you because you have been, like, there for me and shit and we really don't know each other. I love you because we write the same way, which means we talk the same way, which means we think the same way. I love you because I think you are exactly as neurotic, and psychotic and, well, as generallyotic as I am. I love you because our paths have overlapped in crazy, creepy, twilight zone sorts of ways and we have yet to actually shake hands. Did you know I looked at your sophomore and junior yearbooks a few weeks ago? You're, um, cute and shit. I love you because you are kind, and you are way funnier than I could ever hope to be, and you are honest, and you are vulnerable, and you are strong, and you are very very brave, and mostly I love you because you love my Molly and I love my Molly and I love people who love her and make her world a happy place.
Sometimes I think we are related. Sometime you make me believe in god, because there is no way in this world that I didn't meet you for a reason, a big fat honkin' reason. Maybe the key to that reason lays in the bottom of a pint glass; that I don't know yet, but I think we will have to look in a few of them for sure when you get here.
Sarah, thank you for reading this little blog. Thank you for leaving a comment. Thank you for stalking me on myspace. Thank you for writing your blog. Thank you for being an amazing friend to me. Thank you for making me giggle and making me think and, ugh...
Just thank you for being you. You blow my mind and I am honored to know you.
Honored and shit, yo.