drowning in love

I think its possible that my friends have ruined me for all other people.
(disclaimer: this post is pretty simply just a love letter to my friends because I had such a wonderful weekend that I want it to be memorialized on this blog until the end of time. read on if you want to be jealous.)

I just got back from my bestie, Lori Ingersoll (now Zabor!)'s wedding in Kilgore, TX. It was one of those things that I was looking forward to for so long I didn't hardly know what to do with myself when the day actually came that I boarded the jet plane to that hellishly humid state. I arrived in Texas, immediately started sweating, and tiny Alix and I made our (long, long, long) journey to East TX. 

The entire weekend was perfect. I don't think I could have been more filled with glee unless it was my own wedding. And I got sappier than I have gotten in a very long time, which is something in itself. I thought my heart was literally going to explode when my beautiful best friend, absolutely emanating happiness, walked down the aisle to meet sweet Bobby - who I can't help but love for how well he loves tiny Lori. As I watched their sweet ceremony (Lori's dad married them, bring on the waterworks) it occurred to me how proud and honored I was to be right there with her, fixing her train and standing beside her, nervously hoping not to drop the ring and trying desperately not to lock my knees and pass out during the prayer. (Maids of Honor have approximately one million jobs, which I was not aware of until this weekend, fyi. Worth it, for sure, but you really have to bring your a-game!) The whole thing was just too good. It was the kind of weekend that makes you want to just cry all day every day the following week because its over. Quite literally, my entire body hurts from all the fun I had. Which I think is kind of great.

Best of all, I spent some really legit quality time with a significant portion of my inner circle, which is just so good for my soul. Friends are special for different reasons. High school friends were with me through the awkward years, through fights with parents and not making sports teams and celebrating leading roles in 8th grade plays (not to brag). My now-friends have the advantage of knowing me, well, now. They are current and constant and that is beautiful. They're the people with whom I've learned to be honest and genuine and I love that. 

But my college friends were there while I grew up. They lived with me, laughed with me, cried with me, held my hair back when I was young and fairly stupid, participants in the wildest and best and worst nights I can remember. These women know my heart. I LOVE THAT. These are the people I could spend hours with on a hotel floor and it would be the greatest thing ever. My weird idiosyncrasies are met with theirs; I know when they are sad and faking that they aren't; they know exactly what to do when I'm a freaking mess (a gift few people possess). I don't really even know how all of this happened, its just how it is. Our reciprocal loves for one another looks many ways: it looks like 5 hour long hypothetical conversations about wormholes & ice sculptures; it looks like cry-laughing in a stairwell (or bathroom, as the case may be); like constant, hyperbolic affirmation; the cupid shuffle; acceptance over breakfast tacos; the sharing of our intense irrationalities; copious amounts of street justice, when necessitated; like a perfectly timed g-chat conversation or greeting card. So much love.

And, to my dear bestie Lori, constantly the one loving us well and building us up and being the truest friend ever, I think I speak for all of us when I say that it was truly an honor and a great great blessing to get to be at your beck & call for once. You - my bestie, my best blog commenter, my great support, you have patiently put up with my crazy for nearly 7 years now - you made a stunning, flawless bride - and I've not a doubt that you will make a wonderful wife. You bring out the best in all of us. I am forever grateful for the ghetto IHOP in which we met.

The moral of the story is that somehow, pretty much from the beginning, the best people have found their way into my life. You are ruining me for all other people. I hope you're happy. 

[I am]