Kelly and I have provided hours of entertainment and acted as alibis for each other since 1989. We met as goofy tweens in the 6th grade at St. Joseph’s, moved on to high school together and were even freshman year roomies at the Puge. So, yeah… we’ve seen each other through some stuff. And by “stuff” I mean questionable hairstyles, boyfriends, and fashion choices. But through it all we can count on each other for support and a road trip to cure all. On the surface we have little in common. She’s tall, I’m short. She’s athletic, I sometimes walk without falling down. She’s a little bit country, I’m a little bit rock-n’-roll. For some reason these things just don’t matter and seem to add to our bond.
Kelly is possibly the only other person I’ve ever met who could rival my enthusiasm in the boy-craziness area during junior high and high school. And maybe even now? (Kidding, Duane. Uh, dude, you may not want to read parts of this.)
Kelly is an excellent wingwoman. (Seriously, Duane, this would be a good point for you to turn away.) She is quick with the opening icebreaker, an excellent flirt without being inane, and never cockblocks.
Kelly tried to talk me out of purchasing my Doc Marten boots, and failed. But she never gave me shit once I did and wore them every day of sophomore year of high school. However, I’m pretty sure she was secretly relieved when I started switching it up and quit dressing like I was on my way to a Pearl Jam concert every day.
Kelly is a country music fan and expanded my musical horizons by introducing me to some of her favorite artists. And you know what? I like some of it. There, I said it. Some of our best memories are from concerts I never would have attended had it not been for her nudging me out of my grunge-bubble.
Kelly loves Aerosmith, too, and our soundtrack from the summer of 1994 features them heavily. So, you know, she’s a reasonable gal.
Kelly and I took a road trip to LA right after high school graduation. We had been planning it for four years, and it felt like such a grown-up person thing to do. We went to Disneyland, which was not the most grown-up thing to do. Basically, the perfect bridge between high school and college life.
Kelly has a horrible memory. She often asks me about someone’s name, or a date, or what happened when. It’s tempting to mess with her, but I don’t. You’re welcome, Belles.
Kelly lived with me for a year, during a time when I was…how do I put this? A complete and utter pain to be around. She managed not to throttle me and still takes my calls. This may be where the horrible memory plays in my favor.
Kelly has an awesomely patient boyfriend who will go out to dinner with us and listen while we blab non-stop back-and-forth and rattle off inside jokes. (Hi Duane! You can read this part!)
Kelly will do anything for her friends and family if it means it will improve their lives even slightly. From the practical (like a ride to the airport) to the emotional (holding your hand and doing a good luck chant/dance) she will step up. Always.
Belles, I have loved every minute riding shotgun and cooking up goofy schemes with you (Messing with Matt’s car? Genius! Until we were caught.) and talking about real plans for our futures. This is going to be a great birthday, a great year and I look forward to celebrating many more with you!