An Ode to Turtle Parade.

Sometimes in life people have best friends. And sometimes those best friends turn 30. And sometimes when that best friend turns 30, you like to say good things about them and your friendship.

It just so happens that my best friend will be 30 tomorrow. So, if I may...

I met my best friend 23 years ago. It was 1985 and we were in the second grade. I have little recollection of the day we officially met, but I like to think we were best friends at first sight. I probably started talking to her because she looked like me and I thought she might be my long-lost sister. Alas, she was not. But a beautiful friendship bloomed anyhow. Together, we endured the trials and tribulations of growing up - tests, boys, puberty, perms, loss of family members, loss of pets, sicknesses, sports, braces, etc. Our friendship even lasted through that black and white striped culotte & necktie outfit with an attached flourescent orange vest she wore in junior high. Only a true friendship could survive the craziness of that outfit. Luckily I liked her for the person she was on the inside.

Our friendship had its ups and downs, mainly because we knew some catty bitches who were jealous of our friendship and tried to break us up. There was one fight our freshman year of high school that nearly threatened to destroy us forever. But the passing of a note at a wrestling match fixed that. I'm proud to say that was the last fight we were ever in.

We continued to be friends even when we separated and went off to college, a time when most people drift apart. It's funny how distance didn't matter with us. We still visited each other and talked on the phone for hours, we still laughed together and got to know each other's college friends. And now that we're both married, still nothing has changed. That's the way we've always been. Our friendship is effortless. We just are.

So if you want to know how I've managed to be friends with someone for SO long, ask yourself this: Would you want to be friends with someone who is so awe-inspiring, who knows who she is, who has an opinion and sticks to it, who is accomplished, who is hilarious and makes you laugh all the time, who lets you complain about silly things, who is beautiful, who is one of the first people you call whether you have good or bad news, who gives great hugs, who makes you feel better when all you want to do is feel sorry for yourself, who you watch stupid movies with and can recall every line together, who has a great family and lets you in it, who is loyal, who is eerily similar to your husband, who gets sick a lot, who you've traveled with to some pretty fantastic places, who you've gotten drunk with more times than you could ever count, who has been with you through every milestone, who has never let you down once in 23 years, who you never seem to run out of things to talk about with, who is the closest thing to a sister you will ever have, and who you know you're going to be friends with the rest of your life?

I certainly would. And I am proud to say that that person is my best friend.

And good God, I'm not even going to try and imagine what my life would have been like without her.

Happy Birthday to my best friend. I love you.
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Bueller? Bueller?

Last night I had the distinct pleasure of being the guest speaker in a college marketing class. I got to tell all the "kids" about what I do. I've never fancied myself as someone who would enjoy teaching, it's never even been a blip on the career radar, but I have to say I was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it. Before I went, I was terrified. I had visions of the students just staring at me agape, bored to tears. I thought I would burn through my 7-page outline in 10 minutes because I would be so nervous that I would talk really fast. But that wasn't the case - I was there for 2 hours! And I actually knew what I was talking about. 7-page outline be damned! I didn't need it.

Now granted, only 4 kids showed up to the class, but it was a nice jam session between us. I told them things, they told me things and everyone went home a winner.

I don't want to make any career changes just yet, but if I did, I would want to be one of those teachers who encouraged everyone to sit Criss-Cross Applesauce on carpet squares and just rap with me. Very cazh and informal. They'd call me "Teach" and we would joke around and go out for beers after class. We'd discuss the plights of marketing and console each other because others just don't understand us and our desire to market.
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Sap in aisle 8.

One job I could never have is writing Mother's Day greeting cards. I was bawling in the aisle just reading them yesterday. Perhaps it's because they say things that I could never say to my Mom, but always wish that I could. And maybe because I know that when she reads it, she'll know exactly how I felt picking it out because we both struggle with not being able to communicate our feelings any other way. No one in my very sensitive, emotional family says how they feel because everyone would bust out crying. So to avoid a scene, and actually dealing with our emotions, we let cards do it for us. I'm somewhat ashamed by this. But I'm really good at picking out cards because of it!

Every year I walk to the checkout line with red eyes, sniffly nose and a twinge of guilt.

If you're looking for a really good cry, read some Mother's Day cards for a Mom-To-Be. Whoa. I got one for my sister-in-law who is due in July and I had to pick another one from the stack because the one I was reading got soaked.
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Au naturale.

Lately I've been wanting to learn more about organic foods and eating healthier. I really struggle when I shop because I don't know if I should be looking for foods that are low fat, low calorie, low sugar, or low carbs. I think the only thing that qualifies in all of those categories is water. And I'm pretty sure you can't build a healthy lifestyle on water only. The body is weird like that. So which one of those is more important? Which one should I be the most concerned with not eating?

Last night I bought some Silk milk (which I've never had. is the vanilla weird?), organic yogurt, organic pita chips, gluten-free waffles (I honestly have NO idea what that means, but they were in the organic section and on sale, so I bought them) and I've eaten organic hamburger by mistake. But it seemed ok. I would love to hear thoughts on the best things to buy whether that be organic or otherwise.

Please share.

Call me Richard Simmons.

Once a year I usually find the motivation to exercise. Last night I found that motivation under the couch. It told me to get off it and do something. I usually listen to it this time of year because I'm tired of feeling like a bloated bubble of holiday treats. Which, let's face it, lasts a lot longer than just the holiday season. I can find plenty of holidays in which treats are plentiful between New Year's and mid-April - Valentine's Day, Easter, my Mom's birthday, my parent's anniversary, my husband's birthday, Thursdays.

So I took a nice jaunt around the neighborhood last night. We live in the perfect subdivision for walking and peering into neighbor's houses, which I rather enjoy doing. I'm not an illegal peeper, I'm just the friendly nosey neighbor who likes to judge your decorating taste and see what you like to watch on tv. Hey, if your door and window are open and you have your lights on at dusk, you're inviting this behavior. Blame yourselves.

And wouldn't you know, I actually feel good today. Between all of the gawking, I almost forgot I was doing something good for my body. Huh. It's amazing what a 30-minute walk can do for a person. Exercise. Who knew?

I need to know.

When you look at my new blog are the words cut off on some of the posts? They are on mine and it's unfortunate. I may have to find a new one. Which stinks, cause I like this one.

inDecision 2008.

I'm in a serious internal struggle right now. I have been indecisive pretty much my entire life. I think? Maybe not. No, I have. This impending 30th whirl around the sun isn't helping because I feel like I have to have things just right for the big day.

Lately, I've been on an quest to find the right hairstyle, the right hair product, the right make up, the right weight, the right skin, the right clothes, the right attitude, the right experiences, the right look of this damn blog. All so when the big day comes, I can take a deep breath and say, "I'm ready".

I've decided this is my issue with turning 30. I've gotten over the fact that some may consider me old. It's not about that. It's about being a full-fledged adult. And I just hope I'm ready. But I don't think I am.

The Power of Swear.

Cuss words carry so much clout. They are the Cher of the English language. They have the power to spelled with the first letter only, followed by crazy symbols or a line. If I were to write, F-- the F--ing F--ers you wouldn't think I meant Find the Foresting Flowers, would you? No, you would know exactly what I said even though I typed ONE letter.

Note this doesn't work with other words. Guess what I'm going to say n--. . . Wrong-o! You probably thought I was going to say "next" but I was totally going to say "now". Ha! You can try this game with some of your friends to see how well they really know you. I'll give you another chance. I sign all of my blog comments as "m" which you probably think stands for a name like Molly or Muffy, right? No, in actuality it stands for "magnificently clever and charming". Wrong again.

My fortune is just out of reach.

Is it just me or do ATM machines cater to people in SUVs now? I pulled up to my local ATM yesterday and I could not reach the card slot without putting my car in park, taking off my seatbelt and hanging half of my body out the window. The guy in front of me got out of his car all together. I have a VW Jetta so it's not like I'm driving one of those little red Shriner cars from parades or anything (which I love, btw).

I hope I'm not shrinking in my old age.