A Love Letter to My Guurrrrllllzzz

There comes a point in your life when you realize who really matters, who never did, and who always will. Today, I had a surge of love for those I cherish and call “my girlfriends.” 

My life has been blessed and I’m thankful for everything anyone could ever ask for and more, like my fabulous personality and god-given hotness. But besides all the great things I have in life – there are also the hiccups. The curve balls God throws at you and tests your will. He threw me that curve ball recently. Not to say I didn’t help him with the pitch but it still took me by surprise. Yes, of course it's about a man! When isn't it about a man?

After this situation, I feel like a spitball stuck in mid-air with no direction, no one to gross out and hit in the face, and not a single glass of coke to plop into. Not having something to aim at; not having something to look forward to; and not having a safety net to catch me when I finally do fall. But the truly amazing thing is that I'm not at all depressed. I’m still smiling and doing okay thanks to my girlfriends.

We may not be the overly ambitious and successfully annoying besties like Oprah and Gayle; but we are so the aloof and alluring Penelope and Salma. Anyway being cuter is so much more fun than being two old, stubborn bats fighting to rule the world. 

I’m sorry I don’t call you all the time; but I'm thankful that you know I rather have my toenails pulled out with pliers than sit and chit-chat on that tumor inducing mobile. I love you for texting me and not calling me.

I’m sorry I always forget your birthday. I swear I forgot my own birthday 2 years ago! My brain doesn't like annual holidays, birthdays and anniversaries. Maybe I'm a man. Maybe I'm like Madonna. I mean do you think Madonna really remembers Gwyneth’s birthday?



Can I tell you something? I love when we’re in public and we look at each other, then bust out laughing even when there’s NOTHING funny going on! We’re just stupid like that and it’s that laugh - the one that comes from the pit of your stomach and makes you cry. 


I love that you can scream me about a topic you're passionate about and debate it till your blue in the face but stop all of a sudden and say “damn I’m hungry. What about you?” 
I love that I can act 12 years old and you don’t judge me. You let me be as dumb or as goofy as I want to be. I love that you stoop to my level!! Until the goofiness goes overboard and of course we have to leave the restaurant because we’ve just embarrassed ourselves. 

Even if I've talked your ear off the night before, you'll still call me the next morning for breakfast and still eager to listen, even if I feel like I already said too much. You allow me to say all the things my heart has been barred from saying. 

I could go on and on about how much my life has been touched and changed forever. But I'm going to stop and ask you for just one favor. Don't forget me - ever. Put me in the back of your conscience -- somewhere that I can exist forever and be a part of you. So, if we're ever seperated by distance, we'll still be together.