This is for you Birthday Girl. (You know who you are.)

A few short stories from this friendship:
Disclaimer-If you do not already know I am weird, and would like to remain in the dark, do NOT read on. I repeat. Do NOT read on.

Story One:
In High School my best friend and I named our stomach fat.
Yeah, you read that right. We gave the extra-jiggly-goodness on our tummies, names.
I named mine Arnie.
From time to time, (usually after having just eaten a mighty helping of midnight brownies and ice cream in the "privacy" of my parents kitchen) we would lift our shirts to expose our bellies and squeeze our own tummy fat into a shape resembling two large squishy lips. Then we would talk, fat to fat, using our "Arnie" voices. It was hil-freaking-larious. And even though High School is over, I still carry Arnie with me today... in a very real way.

Story Two:
Best friend, my family and I were on our way home from Laguna Beach, CA. We had just enjoyed another lovely spring break tradition at the beach. (Man, I miss those trips.) The Suburban needed gas, and the rest of us needed a pit stop, so Cedar City it was. I had already finished my business and was back at the car waiting for everyone to return. Suddenly best friend rushes out the door of the gas station and hollers at me to "come quickly!" I follow her frenzy to the door of the bathroom were my sister was standing guard.
"Check this out." Best friend says with craziness in her voice and eyes.
I walk in the door. She points to the toilet.
"Holy Crap!" I say!
There it was.
A giant boa constrictor of a poop lay coiled in all it's road tripping nastiness.
It's just another reminder to me that this is a real friendship we've got going on folks, like really real.

Side note: I have always felt we should be proud of the things we create. Poop included. Luckily I have friend who feels the same way. Obviously.

Story Three:
Best friend and I had just graduated. For our graduation trip we wanted both our families to take a weekend trip together up to The Cabin. The trip started off rocky for these two reasons; Half the vacationing party got ill with the flu on the ride up. They had to turn around and go back down the mountain before even making it up to the cabin. PLUS, for some reason the hot water in the Cabin was not working. Despite these minor set-backs we proceed to have a decent weekend.
Then came the time to get the boat out of the water. Best friend, her Dad, and I headed to the boat ramp where best friends Mom had backed down the boat trailer. Cue massive thunder storm over the reservoir! Fully equipped with pelting rain, super powered cold winds, lightning, and monstrous waves. Talk about BAD timing. We nearly drowned, or got severely maimed, trying to get the boat up onto the trailer. The waves on Cascade lake REALLY wanted to keep the boat for itself, and it nearly did. At least an hour later, we prevailed. Soaked to the bone, freezing, scraped up, one of us bleeding, and all of us scared and physically and emotionally drained, we returned to the cabin.
All Best Friend and I could think about was having a hot shower.
Oh.
Wait.
No. Hot. Water.
So we did what all 18 year old best friends do. We heated pot-full, after pot-full of water on the stove top. Then we poured that hot water into the one bath tub until it was nice and full. And in the name of conserving hot water, we hopped on in that tub together!
And to think, that we thought the days of bathing together ended when we were children?! Apparently not so.
As silly as it was, I know we were both grateful to have a friend willing to share the hot water with.

Thanks for being you friend. Hooray for many more years of craziness!