BFF... &E

I started a new school in the 5th grade. I went from St. Matthews to Zachary Taylor, and for someone who was so shy her mom advocated to keep her with the same teacher for grades 3 and 4, moving to a new school was basically my 10-year-old hell.

On the first day, I walked into Mrs. Kidd's classroom and sat at a desk near the door. The desks were arranged in clusters of 4 to 6, facing each other to make squares or rectangles or age appropriate study groups or opportunities for new girls to feel like aliens.

I sat next to a cute girl with huge boobs named Stacy Dickey, hoping we could be friends so I could get through the 5th grade with my fragile psyche in tact (and so I could get her secrets on how to get boobs). Then a girl named Heather Kellogg walked in and changed my life forever.

"Yeah, you have to move," she said. "That's my friend and that desk next to her is mine."

I was defeated, scooped up my supplies and relocated next to a girl named Leslie Smith. Leslie and I became fast friends, probably because she was as needy as I was. We spent every available weekend together most of the school year, earning all As and being teachers pets and over achievers, while that Heather girl caused a commotion and was forced to sign the conduct notebook almost daily.

Then, toward the end of the year, Heather and I became friends. Maybe it was the love feud over Tommy Goins that split her and Stacy up. Maybe it was the rearrangement of desks into twos, all facing front. Maybe it was an invitation to her 11th birthday sleepover party. Whatever it was, Heather became like a sister to me. Another girl for me to fight to the death with, to hate with all my being, to need to survive, to rely on for the will to breathe. So long nice, quiet, respectful, generous, nerdy, safe Leslie. Hello wild, crazy, nutty, hysterical, outrageous, unpredictable Heather.

Without Heather to delicately push me out of my nerdy cocoon, I would probably be afraid to do anything the least bit valuable. Afraid to kiss a boy. Afraid to stand up for myself. Afraid to make noise and take up space. Afraid to explore new places and meet new faces. Heather blazed a trail to life for me. I owe a lot of who I am to her, probably more than anyone (not counting those who are one of us).

I recently saw a contest that was about what friendship means, and even though I've been blessed with the world's most incredible women for friends (shout outs: Liz, Amy, Ruble, Sarah, Kristin, Jen, Leigh), Heather popped into my mind immediately. She has seen me through everything that mattered since things started mattering. So I made this, to honor her and to try to win us a trip to New York for a makeover.

Because that's what best friends do.

Happy Birthday Sheba!