I've been in denial for a long time this summer (it still is summer here by the way.)
Late last spring, Lisa announced that they would be moving. And it felt so far away at the time. NOT REAL AT ALL. I mean Lisa is my girl. she's the person I know I can call first thing in the morning to complain about the day already. the mom who I wished would make me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like that. the person who supplies me cashew crack at the playground. she understands when I call and say nothing because the scream-oning is sooooo loud. We had an understanding.
And I certainly didn't feel it on the "goodbye girl's weekend." We were having way too much fun at yoga. see the bliss?
followed by a looooong lunch with a bottle of proseco, mmmmmmm!
shopping. note the earrings!
and a night of giggly name-gaming
(all laughing here except Angela. "why can't this b*tch guess Patsy Cline! And what's her deal with Jane Eyre?! It's Jane Eyre!" Guess who got stuck sitting next to clueless me? Not pictured are the many pitchers of wonderful watermelon concoction. thanks jen!)
But NOW I'm feeling it. I'm not used to this. I'm usually the one doing the moving away!
Like when I'm driving around, I realize that I'm not going to see her driving (in the same car as mine, only white) down Koenig and I'll give her a call from across the intersection.
And when I call her house now, it's quiet in the background because her children are playing on another floor.
I'm not going to catch her at the grocery store. Meet up with her at Shipe. Laugh when we see my jogger.
We're not going to compare notes about what John Aielli played this morning.
BAH! I miss ya chick.