Honesty Pants

I love walking outside in my fuzzy granny robe with slippers at precisely 11:30 p.m. to hug my best friend Tessa Brown from Texas.
I love opening the back of her styling mini-van and having two illegal texas aliens pop their beautiful, shiny, haloed heads out of the back seat.

I love surprises.

Particularly the kind of surprises that make you scream, first with fear (because they literally scared me), then with disbelief, then with excitement, then with a bubbling over, can-only-find-this-kind-of-happiness-in-the-kingdom kind of joy.
I love the kind of surprises that send you running down the street in your grandma robe because you cannot believe that your other two best friends, Caitlin and Ruth are in Kansas.

Don't worry, I came back.

I love full hearts, saturday afternoon sweat pant parties.
I love endless cups of coffee, cooking together, kitchen talk.
I love laughter, sunshine, couches, togetherness.
I love late night talks about India and talking about which part of our hearts we each left there.
I love watching "Born into Brothels" over pickles, summer sausage, blocks of cheese, and sweet tea.
I love visiting brother and sister from far away and sonic trips and family.
I love hoping and praying for Houston.
I love gluttony, windy campus tours, engagement pictures with the sacred statue of a kneeling man in front of the Lohrenz.
I love funny accents, prank calls, stories, inappropriateness, what a reunion really feels like, tears of laughter, tears of joy, tears of heartbreak.
I love catching up and staying up.
I love cell phone adventures and yelling in parking lots of places we shouldn't be.
I love Randy and Randy's pickles and sharting in your own pants.
I love barely being able to hold it together on stage during my performance of "Steel Magnolias" because I can hear Ruth's laugh in the audience.
I love --- how do you say --- ne-go--ti-an-tia-on-s?
I love these women, their hearts, their friendship in this life --- and I cannot wait to spend time laughing with them in the next.