Wednesday, May 25, 2011

thanks, part 2.

First of all, I went and saw Bridesmaids last night with my friend Erin. Hilarious, seriously. Everyone knew I thought it was hilarious too, because I'm the loudest theater-laugher known to man. Let me just go ahead and say I'm sorry in case we're even in the same theater together. I'm sorry.  Now I feel the overwhelming compulsion to start quoting the movie, ("Hey, fuck buddy!") but that would be lame because those who haven't seen it yet won't get my random quoting out of context like that, which I realize because I'm not a guy. And really, I'm feeling a tad too lazy to provide context notes today. Sorr.

Also hilarious, my luck. It was five dollar movie night, and I was damn right thrilled when the downtown $$$$ (yes, that denotes PRICEY) movie theater didn't rape my bank account. Apparently this five dollar movie holler happens every Tuesday. Color me impressed, I'll be back (on a Tuesday), you gem of a place.

Anyway, despite the hilarity of everything, I arrived home feeling a little "Oh, shit." About the movie. Because damn it, it's funny because it's true. And it's hilarious because I totally can be that girl in the movie, failing professionally, not fixing her car, and getting a little jealous/nutzoid of bitches tryna move in on her friends. And fuck, does life throw protagonist lady number one some unfortunate curve-balls. And a cute and uncannily patient/thoughtful cop. With an accent.  But also, curveballs.

Anyway, in honor of the movie and OMG BESTIES, the Thank You note feature will live on another week, and I'm writing this week to my very own best friend 4evz, Courtney. She lives in Montana and works for Glacier National Park and is pretty much the bad ass-est person I know. This may get lengthy, fair warning.


I'm going to jump right in here and everything may get kind of disorganized, but I'm not too worried about it because you always seem to be able to sift through the bullshit and understand my point. This is a thank you note, by the way, so just bear with me. Oh yeah, thank you for always getting me. Also, I'm taking it there; that's right, let's get emotional.

Court, thank you for being yourself, always and no matter what. Yourself is just so fucking cool. I remember meeting you at the start of my freshman year in the dorms.  My roomates were a gaggle of freaks and the other girls on my floor tanned a lot, spent large portions of time making door signs for any marginally good-looking guy that lived in our building, and studied too much. (probably studied the correct amount.) You were cool, you had listened to good music since middle school when I was just trying to dip my toes in, you laughed really loud, you didn't hold back. I bet it probably pissed the tanorexics off when you started dating the hottest guy in the building two weeks into the year. But whatever, that's not even a reason I liked you, I just think it's funny. We forged this friendship of something larger than life on adventures like stealing chairs from bars, busting bottles in the street, hanging out at the Ag frat, and smuggling Keystone into the rodeo on a whim. Basically, not giving a good goddamn what anyone else was doing, we were working on our own agenda. You were the first person to call out the fact that in college you felt like you were making drinking buddies instead of friends, and it woke me up, made me want to change that fact, I'm so grateful you did.

You never try too hard, which I admittedly find myself doing at times, and the most interesting people just gravitate towards you. Thanks for gravitating towards me, you're one of the only people I know who is unshakably sure of who you are at all times, and it means so much to me. When I'm just going with the flow, playing along with a conversation to look informed/in the know/not so goddamn naive, you're ready to call it to a halt and ask for more information. You never just pretend to get what's going on for the sake of looking better, you're genuinely interested in finding out. I love that about you. Plus, you're not afraid to seek things out for yourself. You'll decide to be interested in something and become so passionate and informed about it, that I can't help but be interested and invested in it too, I know so much more about the world because of you.

Thank you for following your dreams along the less-beaten path that they've led you. That summer you worked in Idaho for the forest service and I worked as a kayaking instructor in New Hampshire changed everything for you, didn't it? When you got back you were already geographically fixed to another point, a westward one. I'd known you'd head west for a while before that, but you'd finally hit the breaking point you needed in order to just leap. If Ryan was good for nothing else, he was good for giving you an opportunity to head out there with someone to tether to, if only briefly. It blows my mind how unattached you are to stuff. You have always had so much more perspective on what is necessary to carry than I do. I feel so much gratitiude towards you for really making me question what things I need to be happy, and why I am so goddamn materialistic at times. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop paying two hundred dollars for jeans that make my ass look better than unicorns sailing majestically across a rainbow-covered sky, over a sea of champagne, because with jeans I really hold tight to the belief that you get what you pay for. Seriously, though, you've got this perspective on what you need that I wish I could duplicate in myself.

By November that year you were packing up, tying loose ends, leaving OSU. I remember once, a couple of years after that initial leap, you told me that the jump was the hardest part. But you just went ahead and did it, with what appeared to me as total focus, ease, and complete assurance. You packed up The Bull, that trusty 1990's Taurus station wagon, and left everything that didn't fit behind. I remember burning as many CDs as I possibly could from you the night before you left, printing out pictures of us, threatening Ryan over the phone with certain death if he hurt you. I didn't know what to say to calm us both down, it was such a greater risk than I think either of us had ever seen anyone we actually knew take. And then you were gone and I remained. It was a hard winter, but I was always mostly okay, even if I didn't have the guts to drop out of school and follow my dreams to wilder places, you sure as hell did. Thanks for that, and please don't ever feel the slightest bit guilty for leaving then, you allude to it occasionally, but I never felt it as a slight or a wedge between us. If anything, it cemented the fact of our best friend-ness to me. You're so brave, and you make me braver, you make me need more for myself by showing me that settling has never even crossed your mind. I miss having you near, but I feel better, stronger, like the world is in more perfect orbit, knowing you're where you should be, actively pursuing overwhelming joy. It inspires me to reach out and grab that for myself, even if I'm much slower going and more unsure of what will ultimately bring me contentment.

Thank you for making it work out there. God, it was a struggle at times, wasn't it? I know it must have been even harder than you let me know to move across the country on a dream and then have nearly everything go wrong. Through the Big C, a torn ACL, no health insurance, finding a way to get yourself back into school and getting your degree, all with no help from anyone else, you are so tough. I remember that first time I flew out to Bozeman to see you, we spent so much time driving around so I could take in all the beauty of your new home, it was just breathtaking. You'd just had surgery to remove the cancer they'd found in your ovaries, which is what had motivated my trip in the first place. I touched down expecting to find you sick and feeble and to need me to nurse you back to health- and instead we climbed a mountain the fourth day I was there. I'm sure it was painful, maybe excrutiating, but the Universe should just know nothing will ever be able to keep you from the mountains. You're so tough. You never lost sight of your ultimate goal and you gave your entire person to getting there, thanks for showing me what that looks like.

Thank you for being an excellent pen pal. And for not holding it against me when my letters are scarce. It's true, we go through long spans of time without speaking, but somehow you've always got a valid mailing address for letters to reach me. Thanks for keeping track of me, I know it's a feat at times. The words you write always jump right off the page at me, it's like I'm reading your mood and outlook at the time you wrote them. I get a thrill from seeing you and talking to you on the phone, but your letters are truly enthralling as well. It would have been easy for our friendship to fade as thousands of miles separate us, and have for more time than we were ever geographically close, but you're my person. The one who I never need to explain why I self-sabotage and let myself be crippled with fear. You always already know, I'm so glad for that. Even when we're not in touch, we're still in tune- that's important to me. You always make me feel relevant, even when we're dealing with completely different shit.

Thank you for being my best friend. Legitimate best. You encourage me to go with whims and follow my heart and do what's right for me. You listen to me, and I'm not saying other people don't listen to what I'm saying, but when I'm telling you the bullshit I can't get through in my head, you help me wade through it and come out in one piece on the other side. If I'm telling you about some fucked up dream I had or how I did something I'm not particularly proud of, you're not just going to take my side, you're going to understand what the fuck got me there to begin with. We can sit in a McDonalds, or sift through a thirft store, or climb a mountain together and the Courtney I get will be the same no matter what, I'm so thankful for that.

Thanks, my westward friend  for not being afraid to do what makes you feel the most full of life, and thank you so much for assuring me that I'm not selfish as I stumble down my own path to fulfillment. It means more to me than you'll ever know that you are confident in my ability to succeed. I can't wait for all that's to come, because in a friendship like ours, there's always a new pinnacle.

So there you go. I could keep writing for hours, probably, but I'm guessing you get the gist. You're the best ever. My best ever.  Next time we're in the same time and place we're having a Brand New dance party.

Thanks to you, I'm always striving to move in the right direction. Thank you.

Love Love Love you,


1 comment:

  1. I loooooved Bridesmaids. I totally cracked up reading this and thinking of Jon Hamm saying "Hey, fuck buddy!"

    Love this post because I would seriously be such a sad person if I didn't have my friends. I really and truly would be!