I have a few best friends. They say you’re fortunate to have one true friend in your lifetime, so that makes me extra super lucky because I literally have 4 besties plus 2 sisters and a mom, who are built-in besties even if they don’t claim me. I’m a Virgo, so that means my friends are stuck with me for life, too. I tell you about my besties on this blog because they may come up, without their permission, and plus everyone needs to know these awesome people. Today, meet Kinsey.
We’ve been friends since we were four, went to elementary together until my family moved away, hung out a little bit in high school even though we lived in different towns (ok “towns” is generous; we lived in tiny little communities 60 miles apart and we occasionally saw each other hanging out the side windows of various vehicles, riding the drag in the nearest actual town where all the small-town kids met up), and we both ended up winning a trip to Washington, D.C. the summer after we graduated. The trip was sponsored by our rural county electric co-ops; Kins gave a speech and I wrote a paper for our respective contests, I mean, we’ve got skilllz, and off we went to DC with 60 other high school kids and some co-op sponsors. My main memories of that trip involve forced group renditions of On the Road Again with kazoos in hotel ballrooms. If only we had iPhone cameras then.
On the DC trip, Kins convinced me to change my college plans and go to Texas Tech, and even though I was already registered for classes at another college and it was only two weeks until the first day of school, I thought it was a good idea so I did. We were college roommates, once shared a tiny bedroom for an entire semester in Spain, married a pair of Ag-major best friends/roommates, and have so much blackmail on each other that this friendship is going to the grave.
Kins is a better and more responsible friend than I am, but we have a good balance. I wreck my car into the back of a truck on the way to class, she picks me up and gives me rides to work for three weeks. I’m nearly kidnapped by strange guys in the Canary Islands, she drags me through the sand to safety. I catch mono and the flu the first day of my first real job, she brings Gatorade and chicken soup. I have emergency surgery, she drives three hours and is there when I come to. See, everyone wins!
We drank a lot of wine in a lot of cool places, but the most unique point of geographical reference in our friendship is the fact that we somehow now live on opposite sides of the Texas panhandle on farms/ranches. While we were running around Europe together ten years ago, I would’ve laughed in Spanish and spit on you for suggesting that such a thing would ever happen! (Maybe to Kins, but nev-uh to me.) So even though all my dreams of city life have derailed off the state line of New Mexico, my best friend is the same, she’s relatively nearby, and we’re both doing our best to raise kids and keep our senses of humor out on the prairie these days.
Kins is hilarious and compassionate and wise, has great hair, and the only problem I have with her is that she possesses millions of old emails written during my formative years that she occasionally digs out and re-sends for the sole purpose of making me cringe. (However, I don’t protest too much lest she bring up the time she got a chili bowl haircut in second grade and I introduced her to everyone in class as “the new boy.”) She is the best at introducing me to new music, Cabernet Sauvignon that costs more than $7 a bottle, the importance of accessorizing, and great kid books. Without her, I wouldn’t know the value of Ray LaMontagne or an infinity scarf. Our shared history is irreplaceable and I’m excited about filling this blog with as many of her embarrassing moments as I can remember.
Happy 31st, Kins! May this be your best year yet.