There are many, many more than thirtysomething things that can explain how I feel about her… but that would be an incredibly long post.
One. We’re almost the same exact person. We’ve gotten to the point where we finish each others sentences and text each other about eerily similar things at the same time. Our parents going on the same cruise, at the same time when we first met should have tipped us off.
Two. She has taught me to be a better person in so many ways. She’s kindness, wrapped in beauty, and dipped in grace.
Three. We talk every day. It’s very, very rare that we don’t chat at one point of the day, even if its only for a minute or two.
Four. The first time we had lunch, we clicked.
Five. She always keeps me in mind. She plans for two, thinks in two’s, and never forgets to involve me.
Six. I can be at my weakest with her. Regardless of my insecurity, my neurosis, and my infinite mistakes, she embraces me.
Seven. Wine. DUH.
Eight. She loves to shop. We share similar styles (comfort, 100% comfort) and she always keeps an eye out for things I might like. And I always love them.
Nine. Her mom cuts my hair. (Does that count? It should.)
Ten. Speaking of parents, hers are like a second set to me. Knowing them shows me often why Nic is who she is. They are amazing people.
Eleven. She shines. This picture is exactly who I see her as.
Twelve. She loves him and appreciates him for who he is and not just because I love him.
Thirteen. She keeps me organized. I’ve learned so much about being organized, how to live by a calender, all that. Except I pretend I know nothing about packing so she’ll pack for me. (She’s really good at that.)
Fourteen. She’s ok with just sitting on our laptops, not needing to talk, just relaxing. She knows the power of just sitting still and appreciates those moments.
Fifteen. Speaking of laptops, she loves gadgets too. I’m going to get her to switch to a Droid X soon, just watch.
Sixteen. She’s helped me expand my love of photography with photowalks, editing tips, and all over just loving the same hobby as me.
Seventeen. When I had to back out of blogher in NY, she brought me with her, with my photo on a stick. I don’t know that I’ve ever been able to really tell her what that meant to me at the time, what it still means to me. People thought that since I wasn’t going, she wasn’t going. But I was there in spirit, thanks all to her (and her boyfriend who wore my face on a bag one whole night.) That helped take some of the pain away from having to cancel. Add to it us constantly staying in touch, her checking in on how me and Ant were, well, thats just what best friends do. Despite the awesome trip she was on, I was still on her mind. She’s exactly that kind of person.
Eighteen. We are both dorks. The dorkiest of dorks.
Nineteen. Our kids are buds. We’d wish for more if we both didn’t want to inflict each other’s ex’s as some type of in-law situation, however that would work.
Twenty. I don’t even notice her cold feet warming themselves on my legs when we’re asleep.
Twenty-one. I can make her daughter cry and she’ll not only forgive me, but totally laugh about it later.
Twenty-two. She’s my Disneyland buddy.
Twenty-three. And my drinking buddy. I found waaay too many pics with drinks in our hands.
Twenty-four. She introduced me to THE best waxing place ever. And talked me over my fear of a Brazilian.
Twenty-five. Her boyfriend buys bras and underwear and brings it from England for me. That’s the kind of friendship we have.
Twenty-six. She took me to get a toe ring. I’d worn one for years and one day I was messing with it and it slipped off and was gone. So we all went and got new toe rings at the fair this year.
Twenty-seven. I’ve got stories for days. Days and days. Stories of what we’ve done, seen, and laughed over. I think thats the way it should be right?
Twenty-eight. This is so much of my happy in one place. The picture is incomplete, as her boyfriend and his son are missing. However, that will all change next month when we all join forces and will finally be together, boyfriends from NY and England, and all three kids. It’s going to be chaotic, spectacular, and a glimpse of many, many nights and trips, and years to come.
Twenty-nine. Coordinating so our men get a second chance of finally meeting by bringing them both here at the same time… well I guess we really wanted to make up for August. I cannot wait to watch this dynamic come together.
Thirty. She’s allergic to my cat but will still come spend the night at my place. She hates birds but she’ll end up liking the ones that me and Ant have. I know it.
Thrity-***. She let’s me be the crier in the relationship.
Thirty-***. She’s an original member, if not the founder (or her dad is) of the #owlclub.
Thirty-***. I can’t for a minute imagine my life without her and her daughter in it. I don’t even want to.
Thirty-***. I’m so lucky to have someone like her and along with Kel, we make a pretty strong team.
Happy Birthday love! I can’t say enough how important you are to me, how special you are, or how big a part of my every day life you happen to be. I couldn’t ask for more in a bff and I’m so, so lucky to have you by my side. All those plans we’ve made, all those good things we keep talking about happening for both of us… well it’s all true. It’s all happening. This ride has been amazing and it’s only going to get better from here! Everyone should have a you in their lives. (Except the real you, that’s mine!)
Happy thirty-something birthday!!!! We love you!!