The Day I Moved To Texas… a love letter to my best friend on her birthday.
It was fall when Lara and I moved to Texas. We were twenty-two and we packed up her old-but-reliable car. Loading and overflowing the trunk and backseat with our vital and unnecessary crap.
This is Lara.
Lara and I have known each other since we were thirteen. In some ways, we haven’t changed at all. In some ways, it was like two thirteen-year-olds taking a road trip. That’s how exciting it was– like someone had given our younger selves the keys to a car, some money, and a map.
This is me.
Before our trip, we had never spent a significant amount of time together. We’d met at summer camp the year we were officially teenagers. A time when I had bangs and braces and wore floral shorts. Lara sported 90’s glasses and a denim poncho.
We were the only two girls who didn’t have pierced ears. And whose parents didn’t own a television. And who had never heard of Easy Cheese.
Our friendship went on to survive a phone-based operation for the subsequent ten years: Lara in New Hampshire, me in Pennsylvania.
Those were years before the internet… Before everyone had unlimited cell-phone minutes. Or Skype. Or text-messaging. Or Facebook. Or even email.
We had to write each other letters. And then wait for the post office to deliver them.
We’d see each other at camp every year. Three weeks of cramming in all the time we could. A manic crunch of late nights and hysteria. Trying to fit an entire year into twenty-one days.
It’s hard– when you are thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen– to be separated from the only person who understands you. To be apart from your favorite person on the planet.
Separated by all those states for all those years, the idea– of spending all the time in the world, with each other. Was almost incomprehensible.
The idea of getting in a car and doing nothing, other than finally welding our brains together, was beyond understanding. The magnitude of it rivaled time travel.
If you had said to us—you can trade this experience for a magic wand, a genie, the fountain of youth, and a cave of gold. We would have said, oh? No thanks. And driven off into the sunset in a car that didn’t have power windows or a cd player.
We packed our favorite books, a camera, and a notebook to write down what happened. We each put three-hundred dollars in an envelope— our fund for gas and motels and other shared expenses. And we left.
We drove off, with no direction, and no end point, and no GPS. Listening to Cher and clutching at each other in disbelief.
We went to Nashville, and Memphis, and Graceland, and Beale Street. We passed over the Mississippi River at midnight.
We drove through the Smoky Mountains. We got lost. We spent days staring out the windows at mountains and shacks and farms and gas stations and signs— advertising everything from discount fireworks to the impending Rapture.
We spent our days talking. And talking. And talking. And singing at the top of our lungs. And laughing. And saying, I know! I know! Oh my God, I KNOW.
Looking at the map and asking each other — do you know for sure what state we’re in?
Rolling down our windows at a red light and saying– excuse me? Is this Arkansas?
Staying up late, in cheap, roadside motels. Talking, talking, talking… As though we hadn’t just spent the entire day, and the day before, and the day before that, chattering at ever-increasing speed.
We saw our road-trip as a great adventure. And evidence of our remarkable spontaneity and imagination. But was really just us laughing hysterically at the slightest provocation. Toting a coffee pot, our own mugs. Hauling our own pillows and towels.
Lara is the only person who could possibly tolerate a cross-country trip with me, let alone enjoy it.
The time I batted my eyes at the Sherriff of Reliance Tennessee—giving him a flirty goodbye and then nearly crashing into his police cruiser.
I had driven away briskly, without remembering the car was in reverse… Screeching backward in a horrifying lurch. Lara and I straight-faced while I shifted into drive and pulled away calmly. Waving to the Sherriff to signal everything was fine.
Twenty feet down the road, tears streaming down our faces. The kind of laughter that prohibits breathing or speech. Me, wiping my eyes and sobbing and trying to see the road. Lara slumped against the passenger door. Bypassing all appearance of laughter, weeping hysterically.
For years to come, Lara would occasionally bat her eyes at me and coo in a fluttery voice—OH Sherriff! And then make the screeching sound-effects meant to convey nearly colliding with a police car.
We ended up in Fort Worth, Texas. And rented an apartment. The first for either of us. We went and looked at places to live together. With the same kind of astonishment other people reserve for marveling at their newborn children. We literally could not believe that we were doing this.
We looked at three apartments… The very least amount of time I have ever spent researching information to make an important decision. We ended up back at the first one, signed a lease, and went to buy cleaning supplies.
Maybe you can imagine our glee. If you think of yourself and your best friend. At a time when you were young, and yet to be beat over the head with anything unfortunate. Now give yourself an apartment. And the freedom to do whatever you want.
We didn’t have a sofa. Or a TV. Or a kitchen table. Or a computer. We bought futons, forgoing the frames, and putting them directly on the floor.
We made a shower curtain that documented every funny thing that happened. Snippets of dialogue and one-word references to experiences that escape me now.
We both had a small amount of money to begin with. Not a lot. But since we weren’t buying furniture. Or getting our nails done. Or going out to restaurants. Not even to Starbucks. Our expenses were low. And our rent was only $550—which, split between two people is practically free.
So at first, we didn’t even get jobs. We spent our days laughing and going to the library. And reading, and talking, and jumping up and down, and planning to take over The Alamo.
We laughed constantly. We laughed and laughed and laughed.
There was nothing that was not funny.
And we talked.
And talked. And talked.
And talked. And talked. And talked.
We talked a lot. Making up for all those years of deprivation. Sitting out on our small balcony in flimsy, plastic lawn-chairs we bought on clearance.
We would prop our feet up on the railing. Wearing pajama pants and ratty t-shirts. Sunglasses during the day. Cheap wine at night. To you, this sounds depressing and strange. To us, it was ideal and blissful.
We talked for hours, days, weeks. Late into the night. Out on the patio. Staring up at the sky, from the safety of our concrete bunker. Our parents, our boyfriends, our loves, our hates, the things that scare us, the way I loathe when people stand too close to you in line.
Nothing was too trivial, too abstract, too silly. We had been waiting for this since we were thirteen—the opportunity to spend as much time as we could, talking. And it was just as good as we knew it would be. Like meditating or taking drugs—a way of reaching a higher plane of consciousness.
Like opening off the top of our heads and leaning over and saying– look around, tell me what you see.
Our trip to Texas was all of the best parts of us. Of our friendship. Of being young. Of having an adventure.
Like a honeymoon— a time of giddiness, love, and general euphoria. To be accompanied by someone who expects nothing from you, other than your presence. To be with someone who wants nothing more, than to just be with you.
This year, we’ve been friends for 22 years.
Happy Birthday, Lara.
September 17, 2012 @ 10:15 am
Great memories to hold in your heart forever. 🙂
September 17, 2012 @ 2:58 pm
SO, so, so true. It really was the best extended-fun I ever had!
September 17, 2012 @ 10:21 am
What a wonderful tribute to your friend Lara and the enduring gift of friendship. Loved reading about your youthful adventures and zest for life!!
September 17, 2012 @ 2:59 pm
If I could go back to one point in my life, that would be it. I would be tempted to revisit my wedding, and some other special events… but Texas would win.
September 17, 2012 @ 10:32 am
I love this!! Bestfriends are worth all the hassle to make and the drama to keep 😉
September 17, 2012 @ 2:59 pm
Lara is like my twin from an alternate universe. We can communicate without even speaking… You probably know the feeling!!
September 17, 2012 @ 11:01 am
A friendship that stands the test of time, great post.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:18 pm
I’m lucky to have her!
September 17, 2012 @ 11:56 am
HOW SWEET! What a wonderful birthday tribute to a friend who obviously means the world to you.
The constant laughter is something I remember most about my best friend. EVERYTHING was funny… funny to the point of physical pain. Ahhh, good times!
It’s so great that you still have all these pictures. The true friendship just shines through. How lucky you both are to have each other and to still be friends to this day. Fun post, Victoria.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:26 pm
That kind of laughter seems like a hallmark of close friendships. Paul makes me laugh a lot, but I rarely come close to needing medical assistance…
By the way? To me, Texas is a magical place where no one has to go to work or deal with anything unpleasant, or do house projects, or have real life intrude on your blissful existence… Lucky you, to live in such a place!!
September 17, 2012 @ 11:58 am
Dang, Victoria Elizabeth! This is quite the post. It really sums up the essence of what a true friendship is. This is more than a tribute to one treasured friend – it’s a celebration of what friendships can and should be. Thanks for this on a rainy Monday morning.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:30 pm
Thank you so much, Curt. It was the sort of experience that kind of defies description… although clearly, I had a lot to say about it!! Thanks for reading!
September 17, 2012 @ 1:47 pm
This. Is. AMAZING. 🙂 What young adulthood SHOULD be like!
And I’m diggin’ the tie dye and other nineties paraphernalia. Good times.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:31 pm
You should have seen my blue mascara. Maybe you remember how awesome that was?
September 17, 2012 @ 2:11 pm
Yes, but did you ever steal yard décor? I kid. Amazing blog!
September 17, 2012 @ 4:32 pm
Laughing… no I don’t think we ever stole yard décor. But we did fill a hugely-deserving ex-boyfriend’s truck bed with trash. Not garbage, just random, odd stuff. Pretty sure that will gain me admission to your league…
September 17, 2012 @ 2:42 pm
I haven’t commented before, but I had to tell you how much I loved thid. The shower curtain scrabook is priceless.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:48 pm
I totally agree… priceless.
Thanks for commenting! Back before I was a blogger, I had NO idea how appreciated comments were, and how I should be leaving them all over the place!!
September 17, 2012 @ 3:15 pm
I love that shower curtain! (And this post generally!)
September 17, 2012 @ 4:49 pm
I wish I’d thought to make a decoder-key to the curtain—some of it is a mystery to me now… I’m like, WHAT were we talking about?
September 17, 2012 @ 3:57 pm
This is the cutest thing ever! I wish I had a lifelong friendship as such. I’ve come close but a lot has gotten in the way. I do have several similar friends but I don’t think we’d survive a roadtrip together. That shower curtain FYI – is awesome!!! Who got to keep it? 🙂
September 17, 2012 @ 4:50 pm
I got the shower curtain. She got the microwave. I’m sneaky like that.
The road trip part was fantastic… But I won’t lie and say there weren’t times when we were finally living together, that we weren’t a little tempted to punch each other.
September 17, 2012 @ 4:26 pm
Really enjoyed reading this…I have to say that I was relieved to get to the end of your post and find that everything was okay with both of you…no tragedies or anything like that (sometimes these “remembering back” posts can go that route) hopefully the only tragedy was having to get rid of that awesome cool shower curtain!
I do wonder if things have changed with friendship now that there is the internet and email and there’s no more waiting for the mail to be delivered. I wonder if there is a quality of friendship that is being missed with communications being so instantaneous these days. I wonder if we weren’t much more “connected” back then even without electronic gadgets?
Thanks for a great post that left me smiling!
September 18, 2012 @ 8:03 am
I never thought of the anticipation-part of waiting for a letter as a good thing. It was agony way back when… but maybe I should value it.
I’ve gotten back in touch with some people through Facebook, and enjoyed exchanging some really LONG emails. And they’ve really made me miss that kind of long-form communication. But also made me think about how no one really has the time for that kind of intensive writing…
P.S.- I clearly lack your ability to whittle anything down to only the essentials.
September 17, 2012 @ 6:12 pm
Wowee! How lucky you both are to have each other. I have a friend like that. We became really close when we were 16 although we knew each other before then. We are still inseparable and I’ve been planning retirement since I was 18 because I want to spend every day with him…..my husband.
I loved reading this…..thanks Victoria.
September 18, 2012 @ 7:55 am
Your comment had it’s own little narrative arc and plot twist… SO sweet! You’re lucky to have found him so young. It’s wonderful to have someone who’s known you so long. And to have someone who shares all your important memories. It’s like having a scrapbook in the form of another person!
September 18, 2012 @ 1:14 am
Victoria,
This is such a great tale of friendship and fun and someone that gets you and loves you for who you are. The funny thing is that I just got home from spending 5 glorious days with my best friend and her sister. We became friends at Disneyland during our first jobs after high school and she was in my wedding and I was in her’s. We giggled until we nearly wet ourselves this week and picked up where we left off during our last face to face visit. She lives in Washington now and I live in California…I miss her so but thanks to email we talk almost daily. Thank you for putting into words such a sweet reminder of “true lifelong friendship” and it’s value.
Happy Birthday to your dear friend.
Karen
P.S. You’re really tall! 🙂
September 18, 2012 @ 8:21 am
Karen,
That literally made me laugh out loud!!
Lara and I spend so little time in each other’s physical presence, that when we get together it takes a while to adjust our mental image to reality. For some reason, in my head, Lara is the exact same size as me… and whenever I see her in person, I’m like—geez, why are you so short!! And she’s like, I definitely don’t remember you being a giant…
Five days of laughing sounds like heaven!! Your trip must have been wonderful! Isn’t it funny how you just pick up where you left off? There are years between times Lara and I see each other, and it never matters.
September 18, 2012 @ 8:44 am
Thank you for reminding me hold onto the memories that I have shared with my friends more, and to create more memories for us to hold onto in the future. Stunning post! Thanks for the sharing!
September 18, 2012 @ 10:07 am
These really are some of my most precious memories! While I was putting this post together, I was so aware of how much things have changed technology-wise! If we were to take this trip today, we’d have endless digital photos and plenty of video… makes me sad I don’t have that kind of detailed record!
September 18, 2012 @ 10:42 am
Awww! I am crying – this is so beautiful – makes me miss my best friend – what a special thing it is to find a girlfriend who “gets” you: your silliness and your fears etc and get to finally spend a bunch of time with her. This is great! My favorite lines: “our vital and unnecessary crap.” And: “Are we in Arkansas?” Ha!! 🙂
September 18, 2012 @ 3:28 pm
Sniff… seriously. Thanks for that. It is absolutely the best, right? To be with another person who is not at all concerned with what state you’re in!
We did take some genuinely unnecessary and puzzling things… when Lara got to my house and we were packing up my half of the car, I pulled a giant shovel out of her trunk… The kind you would use to dig a big hole. Incase of what, I have no idea. I was like, hey maybe we don’t need this? And she was like, no we’d better take it.
June 28, 2013 @ 12:05 pm
Actually, the shovel was a must-have for anyone living in NH winters, to shovel your car out of snowbanks. The fact that Texas doesn’t have snowstorms was not something I was thinking about when I said we should take that.
September 18, 2012 @ 12:17 pm
Mrs. Barnes, You don’t know me and I don’t know you, though after reading this I feel I know you and Laura quite well! The details you remembered about your time of 22 years is better than any video, or photo collage you could ever arrange.The video in your mind couldn’t have been portrayed any better!! I was moved around too often to really keep a best friend for very long but all my best friends know we all had a special friendship. Thank you for bringing these memories back to me! God has blessed you with a wonderful friend and a true blogging ability!!
September 18, 2012 @ 3:21 pm
Thank you so much for your comment. The feeling of conveying an experience to strangers, and having it be meaningful to them is oddly gratifying. I appreciate you taking the time to write such lovely things!
Like you, I moved schools a few times. I hated it, and found it overwhelming and intimidating… So Lara’s friendship was that much more important. Finally getting to spend so much time with her felt like we were making up for what we’d missed out on.
September 18, 2012 @ 12:36 pm
brought tears to my eyes
September 18, 2012 @ 3:29 pm
So happy you ”get” us!!
September 18, 2012 @ 12:42 pm
What a tribute! What a friendship! Y’all should take a 2nd trip..using all the modern technology and blog from the road.
September 18, 2012 @ 3:30 pm
Best. Idea. Ever. Imagine what I could do with an iPhone. Although blogging about it would probably amount to this: hahahahahahahaha.
Succinct, but not eloquent.
September 18, 2012 @ 2:00 pm
A great tale of friendship. Your story made me remember a trip I took from Corpus to Houston with an old friend in a very small car with no air conditioning, a very limited cassette player, and having to stop every thirty miles to keep the vehicle from overheating. We had a great time. Quite often the happiest memories come from the simplest things, thanks for sharing!
September 18, 2012 @ 3:31 pm
Maybe not everyone thinks a tiny, overheating car, with no ac in Texas sounds like the most fun ever… But I am one of the few who can appreciate the awesomeness of such a trip.