This one thing that happened this one time in this one place called Denver.

"You get yelled at a lot," my sister said to me the other day on the phone. "By totally random people. It's so weird. To me - you look like the last person someone would yell at."

These are the things sisters tell each other to make each other feel better. "Your hair looks nice today," because in reality you have a zit the size of a quarter on your chin and your hair couldn't help but look nice next to that thing, or, "Oh no, you're exactly the same size you were last year at this time," when you know the pants from last year are now in your 'I have a dream' pile and you're in desperate need of shopping because you've been living in elastic for two months.

Okay, but on to why my sister was trying to make me feel better about getting yelled at by random people. I'll just share one random-yelling incident today.

When I was on vacation with my girlfriends in Denver about a month ago now, we went out for the night, came back, and all fell asleep at 2:00. At 5:30, I was awake, because that meant at home, it was 6:30, the time I would normally be feeding the boys eggos (in case this makes some mothers out there horrified - they're organic eggos, in case it doesn't make some of you horrified, let me tell you the truth, they're not organic - what can I say? They love them and I tell myself the blueberries are full of antioxidants). Most likely, you'll see future poop stories.

Okay, so I'm up at 5:30 with the knowledge I have at least 4 hours before someone wakes up. So, I go to the hotel gym and half-heartedly bike. Then I read a Janet Evanovich book - part of it anyway. If you haven't read her yet - read her. Stop what you're doing - pick up one of her books - you'll laugh until you have to run to the bathroom.

Finally, my girlfriend Dana woke up and we ran out to go get a bite for breakfast. And here's when Random Yelling Incident #34 happened.

I was laughing at something Dana had said as we passed by a gentleman on the sidewalk.

And he said, "Hey, what're you laughing at?"

Ignoring him (Stranger Danger!) I walked on and continued to laugh at whatever it was we were talking about at the moment.

And then all of a sudden I hear at horribly loud decibals -

"HEY! EDUCATE YOURSELF DUMBASS!! HE'S EPILEPTIC!"

Um. Um....

What's happening?

I looked at Dana and she shrugged her shoulders. I turned back and saw that standing next to the screaming man was another man. I hadn't even seen this man, let alone been laughing at him. And then I felt awful that this man was screaming next to this poor man drawing attention to an incident that didn't even happen and I wanted to yell back at him but I didn't want to make the one man feel any worse about the whole thing and then suddenly Dana said -

"That was odd."

And I turned and said, "I need a bagel."

Until tomorrow ...

A princess named Money

All right ladies – in 21 hours I will be enjoying time with my college girlfriends. And I have just one girlfriend left to write about – Dana.

Dana was actually supposed to be born a princess. I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty positive.

She loves all things pink and sparkly and girly. She loves princess movies, too.

I’m not kidding.

The three of us who will also join her on this trip have sat through Ella Enchanted and The Prince and Me. But the thing is, with Dana watching, all excited and believing in true love to the end a.k.a. Charlotte, they’re actually fun to watch.

Dana’s also beautifully unpredictable. She is one of the classiest people I know, and she is my social behavior barometer for what is right and what is wrong. But one night, one glorious night, when I came back to visit my girls after moving to Colorado, Dana’s barometer slipped a little bit, and I’m so happy for her that she let it.

We were sitting in a bar in Iowa City and the clock was moving toward midnight when a waitress asked Dana if she would like to participate in a wet T-shirt contest. And the beautiful tipsy-barometered Dana said yes. I will leave the details out of this story, but just know that Dana not only embraced the wet T-shirt contest, she rocked that party. And that’s why I love her. One day, she is sitting with you talking about why you will get married and have 2.5 children and a drive a Volkswagen and why that’s the right thing to do and the next day she’s dancing like Beyoncé in a wet T-shirt contest. How could you not love this girl?

Beyond that, Dana is … just Dana. I can’t describe it. She makes you feel comfortable and secure and like no matter how tumultuous life might be at the moment it will all end up all right. She’s like a baby blanket for adults.

I love you, Money. See you, well, 21 hours!

P.S. Thanks in advance for the ride. And the weekend. And the friendship. XOXOX

If I could clone Karen

Okay, so in continuation of my tribute to my girlfriends in honor of our trip this weekend, I wanted to highlight Karen.

If I could clone Karen and give her to everyone in need of a girlfriend I would because you couldn’t find a better one. She is the most loyal person I’ve ever met – she will take your side even if she thinks you’re wrong (she’ll also be sure to tell you that you were wrong later, but she has the decency to do it when you’re no longer in public). She has a sarcastic wit that will make your lips curve even on the worst of days, and she is dedicated to fun more than anyone I know. If there was a bar crawl that had 100+ people involved in college, you could guarantee she was a part of the planning process.

And as if that wasn’t enough, she has an enormous heart. She wants everyone to have an equal chance. She wants everyone to be able to live a good life, from here to the far corners of the world. Sometimes my heart breaks for her because it’s not an easy world when you want that for so many. But she doesn’t just talk about it either, which I find myself guilty of sometimes – she does something about it. She’s planning her career around it. I’m so proud of her.

And she’s got this way of knowing just what her friends need when they need it.

When I was moving to Colorado and leaving all of my friends behind (they were such good friends I had to return shortly after) she gave me her favorite pair of sweatpants that she would come downstairs wearing on our “I’m hungover and need nothing more than to watch a movie and eat fried food” days. Karen and I studied abroad at separate times, and I know she knew to give me these because of that experience. A couple of years before this, I found myself in Ireland, 10 days in to a 5-month stint, away from friends and family and loved ones and though it was an amazing experience, I had a horrible bout of homesickness all of a sudden. I called my mom crying and said, “Mom, can you please send me my Iowa sweatshirt? I need it.” It was silly. It was a sweatshirt, but that sweatshirt was home. Karen knew those sweatpants were home to me. They were a symbol of the best days I had with my girlfriends. I packed them up and smiled.

And I wore them often.

I wear them still. I’m packing them for this trip as a matter of fact.

K-HO, I love you so. Thank you for entering my life.

Can’t wait to see you.

My girls

I love my girlfriends. I consider the fact I’ve remained partially sane the past two years is much their doing. Memorial Day weekend, I’ll get to join three of my best girl friends for two days of fun and I’ve been looking forward to it for quite some time. Over the next two weeks, I’ll tell you why it’s likely we’ll get into a lot of trouble.

First, Kimmy.

Kim can make me laugh without trying. Kim cusses like a sailor. She is drop dead beautiful – to the point you really want to hate her, but you can’t because she’s the best person to veg out with when you need a girl day.

Kim called one day and shared this story with me:

Kim: Some asshole keyed my car today.

Me: Oh my gosh, that sucks! I’m so sorry.

Kim: Yeah – they keyed the word “ass” right on my passenger door.

Me: Ugh. Was it someone you work with?

Kim: I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I got that mother ****. I keyed the word “nice” right above it.

I died laughing. I could so imagine Kim driving around the mountains in Vail with a car that read “nice ass.”

Kim: I figured I was going to have to paint the door anyway, you know?

Yep, Kim. I know. 

Love you my dear, and can’t wait to see you.

Until tomorrow …