Weather Girl knows the password on my iPhone. The combination of me choosing an obvious one, and the fact that the numbers part of her brain is over-sized, allowed her to figure it out in three tries. (She tried her birthday digits first…but then this is a girl who, if she could get the legislation passed, would make her birthday a national holiday.)
While I wasn’t looking earlier, she decided to do me a favor and, inspired by my most recent blog post, changed the contact name of a certain someone on my phone. When that someone called tonight, it came up like this:
When I grabbed the phone to see who was calling me tonight, the Garnacha we were drinking nearly came out my nostrils.
I have to give her props. She is the primary recipient of all my dating stories, poor girl. The tears, the frustrations, the disgusting stories of late night make out sessions with strangers…she is the first one to hear it all. After 11 years of friendship, she knows me so well that she is almost always right about what I should do in certain situations. Lucky for me, she tolerates a lot. But when the stakes get too high for me with someone, she steers me in the right direction with the fewest of words.
My favorite bit of (t-shirt worthy) advice to date?
“Short walk to get laid. Long walk to the therapist.”
And she knows the password to my phone. Best. Friend. Ever.
More Food, Less Pain,