That time my best friend and I hosted the Golden Globes, by Anna

Oh my goodness I must have died and gone to heaven and then died and gone to hell because that blog post was one of the most sweetest things ever and also the most difficult things to follow up.

I would like to tell you about Danielle by starting with how we first met. Danielle and I met as young aspiring comedians in Chicago working our way through ImprovOlympic. It was best-friend-love at first sight. Oh wait, that was Tina and Amy. But who can really tell the difference? (Side note 1: think about it…Danielle Elizabeth Lemmon, just sounds like Liz Lemon. And myself, an up-and-coming community planner destined for government work building parks. Tina’s brunette, Danielle is brunette. Amy is blonde, so am I. Liz has facial hair issues, need I say more?)

Danielle (left) and myself (right) hosting the Golden Globes

In fact it was not best-friend-love at first sight. Danielle is like beer. She’s gassy? Well yes, but what I mean is she’s an acquired taste. Or maybe she’s more like coffee because although she’s an acquired taste, everyone in the end learns to love her (I’m still not big on beer). Our first interaction was as incoming freshman at the University of Washington, in the Hec Edmondson basketball court waiting for our Husky Band auditions on trumpet. Although it was not best-friend-love at first sight, I oddly remember exactly what she was wearing. A purple blouse with cuffed sleeves and jeans. And just to be clear, the blouse didn’t have jeans, Danielle did. That would be silly.

Our communication at this point was casual banter about how we felt about the impending audition. It wasn’t until later that evening, after all cuts had been made, that the incoming trumpet rookies were invited to the trumpet house for a “meet-the-vet night”. Every rookie and vet had the opportunity to introduce themselves, including their intended major and part on trumpet. All I remember is that Danielle, in her deadpan humor that no one was yet acclimated to, said “I am third, but I could have gotten first if I felt like it.” Or something like that. Note to editor, please confirm this with Danielle before she yells at me “that’s not what happened, motherfucker.” Her memory is so much better than mine, especially of important things like remembering where her keys are or if she left the oven on, or where her keys are. (Side note 2: DO NOT let us grow old together, our collective lack of short-term memory will literally kill us.)
 

So my first impression of her wasn’t so great, and it probably didn’t help that our first bonding experience was buying (and I use this word lightly) “clothes” for the purple and gold rally. At Buffalo Exchange, Danielle found a gold sequined bodice and asked me if she thought she should buy it. Although I may have said “no” at the time, I’m glad I said yes (gold bodice first pictured left, 2010). You’d be surprised how handy a gold sequined bodice can be in college. Forget mini fridges, backpacks, or meal plans. Invest in a gold sequined bodice, incoming freshmen. It will get you where you need to go.

From that moment on, we started becoming friends. But the moment I knew we were best friends was when we were sitting in her apartment, watching TV (probably Parks and Rec) and both of our phones go off. As it turns out, we take our birth control pills at the same time, we use the exact same brand, and for the same weeks of the month (Side note 3: true story). I’m pretty sure that’s what you call the female equivalent of blood brothers.
 

Gold bodice continues to make an appearance, 2013

I believe there are several stages to becoming best friends with someone. Synchronized periods is definitely one of them, but I realize that’s a little exclusive to those non-women folk out there. Another big step you might notice reaching with your best friend is when you have to lend them your credit card. Mom, I know you’re reading this right now and I swear it was a responsible decision. Danielle really needed some Chipotle and I was too afraid to parallel park and go in with her. See? You would have done the same thing.

This May, Danielle and I will be wwoofing across Europe. This will be by far the biggest step we’ve taken together and the best one! (So far.) Spending all of my time with one person for 6 weeks will be a challenge for both of us, but I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. First of all, Danielle has done most of the work on our itinerary and budget thus far, so that’s great (thank you thank you thank you). But more importantly, no matter how pissed off we get with each other, we have developed the skill set to work it out. Danielle mentioned this in her post, but it’s worth mentioning again: there is no passive aggression here. If something bothers us, we’ll make it known. I anticipate tension to run high about two weeks into our trip, when we both simultaneously lose our passports (see side notes 2 and 3) but no matter how angry we are, I trust that we either know how to talk/write it out, or how to take some space from each other to regenerate the skills for the former. 

This compatibility stems from Danielle’s keen sense of empathy and from my inability to withhold my feelings. Seriously, I cannot keep any of my own secrets. It’s taken all that I have not to reveal all the funny parts of this entry before finishing it. Anyways, I look forward to the trip with my best friend. Although she may be like coffee for being an acquired taste, she is also like coffee because she gives me energy and I’m fucking addicted. I love you! Thank you for letting me treat your kitchen as my own.

- Anna
 P.S. my middle name is spelled FARRELL, bitch