Dear Princess

Dear Princess,

Today you are 348 months old…

I cannot believe how time has passed. Granted I met you when you were only 216 months old but time has flown. Since the young’ in you were when I met you we have had many adventures. Drunk times in Mexico when we weren’t old enough to drink in the states, a month (or so) in Ireland when we weren’t mature enough to go to college, let alone think about a future that lasted longer than tomorrow. Many tragedies, many laughs. Many boys, bad hair cuts, episodes of Rosanne, discriminating pictures, bad friends, broken hearts, bad choices, made up songs, days spoken in Spanish (where we could only ask where the bathroom is and recite our school supplies and colors,) walks of shame, embarrassing moments (where we attempt to convince the other what ever we did was in fact not embarrassing, even though we knew it was) drunken falls, a move across the country, and a welcome party when I came home, too many big bar tabs, money loans(even though they say never to lend a friend money) jokes about your father wanting to do me (yeah you call me STEP MOM), one bad night at karaoke, one wedding, one divorce and all the life that happened in between.

You have always been my rock. My wake up cal,l and my biggest supporter. The only person I know that will honestly tell me when I look fat in my pants. The only person I know who will tell me I’m right even when we both know I am wrong.

The one that forgives me when I take random trips to D.C. in attempt to do the right thing but end up doing the wrong one.

You’ve stood beside me when I make the wrong decisions, and are still there to pick up the pieces when I call you to tell you I made the wrong decision, you even are nice enough to fake shocked like you didn’t know all along I was fucking up.

You let me laugh at you and make fun of you and only pretend to be a little offended or pissed.

You let down your “prissy side” and “professional side” and “normal person side” and you just be you around me. And as far as I am concerned that is the biggest enjoyment of being your friend is that I know you are always just “you” with me.

The second best part of being your friend is knowing that no matter what I do, or say, or you do or say we are stuck together.

The worst part of being your friend? Knowing that as much as I talk( and we both know I can talk), I will never have to words to let you know how much you mean to me. They say you can’t choose your family so you choose your friends. I didn’t choose you, you just showed the fuck up and never went home, and that Princess was the best day of my life.

Happy Birthday!

I love you!

Katie Lauren
P.S I am so the Rhoda