Today, one of my best friend’s told me I get “sloppy”. And ya know what? Damn right I do.
I am 24 years old and my life is at least a quarter of the way over. I’m not running for Congress or marrying a Duke of whatever so who cares what people think? Real friends know me and love me anyway. I’m worried about having fun while I know what the word means. If that makes me sloppy, so be it. Life’s too short to wear a tie to bed.
Tonight, I sang karaoke with a very hoarse, manly voice. Total Eclipse of the Heart? Oh yes we did. Thanks for singing backup John. We KILLED IT. And don’t forget, you owe me a child before I hit menopause. You can have one too if you want.
I leave for home tomorrow and I’ve had such a great trip. Don’t get me wrong, there were some interesting moments. Some yelling, some confusion and a lot of awkward silence. But when it’s all said and done, I’ve got really amazing people here who really know who I am. Sure, we will get into fights. We will dig our claws in and twist. We will make the wrong decision and hurt each other. But even that is beautiful in its own right – to be able to screw up and say irrational things and be forgiven.
At the end of the day, there’s mostly laughter. The tears are mostly happy. There’s always a shoulder to cry on, a hand that will hold yours. There’s another round of drinks at the bar, another song we know all the words to. Where every other sentence is an inside joke. Where you can see an expression out of the corner of your eye and know what your best friend is thinking. We sing junior high hymns at Applebee’s and talk our way into happy hour prices after happy hour. We take pictures until our cameras die. We double over laughing. We sample each other’s cocktails.
Arizona has a special little corner in my heart. It’s beautiful to know that regardless of where I end up, I can always come home.
Ludacris and I share the same profound love for Saturdays. This was a good one. We had an adult social gathering, with friends from high school, many of whom I’ve known since grade school. There were new faces as well, friends of friends who I’ve seen tagged in photos and heard stories about.
First kisses, first crushes, first boyfriends, and a lot of other firsts crowded Carrie’s living room and kitchen, singing songs about the glory days, toasting to the future. So many of us have known each other since we were single digit, greasy headed little kids playing foursquare on the playground. Our initials are carved in the tree past the basketball courts, little hearts outlining love we thought was final.
And here we are, over 15 years later, discussing wedding dresses and admiring photos of each other’s children, complaining about long work days and trying to forget how far past our bedtimes it is. Don’t get me wrong – we aren’t old quite yet. Fighting for the title of beer pong champion, chasing shots of vodka with shots of Malibu, running circles around the pool table in a hyperactive game of ‘Blue Balls,’ imitating Street Fighter characters in the kitchen (okay, maybe that was just me), and dreading the sun coming up because we could stay right here forever.
So much changes in our lives every day. We lose people we love, we move to new places, life deals us cards that change who we are and what matters to us. It’s good to know that even with the world spinning madly on, we can fill a house with thirty people, new friends and old, have some beers, and freeze time, if only for one night.
Today was action packed with so much fun. I woke up and did yoga on the patio (in the shade, mind you) and then got around with the girls to take a day-trip up to Prescott. The weather was about 15 degrees cooler, and the grass is about 40 shades greener. We had a lazy day, wandering the streets, snacking liberally and enjoying time in the car with familiar music and a painted landscape. This is the part of Arizona that people forget is here.
Today, I wore my favorite bracelet.
It’s a turquoise spoon-turned-bracelet that my grandmother purchased in Arizona before I was born. I’m not sure if I ever even met my grandmother, but she gave this bracelet to my mom, and I ended up with it somehow.
It’s one of those pieces I love to wear because it’s old and beautiful. But, I also love it because it’s from my home, and it’s the only thing I have connecting me to that part of my genetic past. And, of course I love the analogy – taking something and making it work in a new and beautiful way. I just love thinking that my father’s mother cherished it as much as I do.
Today, I’m thankful to have it.