I'm Neither Thelma or Louise but I Might be Phoebe

I have the best of friends. Friends that truly truly get me. As scary as that is for them they do get me. Its possibly a sign that they need therapy as much as I do. But back to my statement I have the best of friends.

For example I have one friend that has literally known me most of my life. She also happens to be my cousin. She is the one person who knows everything about me. If I die she has promised to clean out my drawer (ladies you know what drawer I am talking about), burn my journals and scrub my hard drive all before my mom can see any of it. That's a good friend. 

I have another friend who I can quote movies line to line with last week I had the following text conversation with her...

• ME: Look its Elton
• HER: Oh it is! Ha ha.
• ME: I love that u get that reference
• HER: Ha ha me too. I love that you noticed

I didn't need to explain anything to her she knew exactly what I was talking about and we weren't in the same city.

One close friend allows me to call and freak out about what ever is currently driving me crazy. She gets that I need to get it all out so I can go about being the semi well adjusted woman that I think I am.

But recently I have rediscovered a number of friends I went to high school with that remember me when, like the "mature" me and when we get together its like we have always been together. In fact after on recent lunch with a friend she posted on her Facebook page that we both talked 90MPH for 2 hours. It was awesome.

And that's not to mention all the amazing friends I have meet on twitter and through this blog. 

I just want to say thank you to all of you in my life. You keep me sane and laughing.