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 18, 2012 @ 6:40 pm
Dang… I wish I had done something like this with my best friend! What a gift!! Thank you for sharing a snippet of such a special time. Do you guys get to live near each other now?
September 19, 2012 @ 8:25 am
No… she’s back in New Hampshire, I’m back outside of Philadelphia. We rarely see each other. Our friendship has been long distance for so long, it seems normal to never see her.
Two of my neighbors are best friends. The one bought the house next to her friend as soon as it went for sale… I cannot even imagine the luxury!
September 20, 2012 @ 2:16 pm
My bestie lives 1200+ miles away, so I totally get what a luxury it would be to have her next door. I saw her last summer, while our husbands were hiking and we just sat and talked for three days straight… like literally non-stop. Having someone like that, near or far, is a precious gift!
September 20, 2012 @ 3:34 pm
Exactly… I see the neighbor women walking into town together with their yoga mats… I’m just like, that must be awesome.
September 19, 2012 @ 4:09 pm
What a beautiful post. Memories of course (about keeping friendships alive before technology!), but also this is the stage of life my daughter is at, trying everything, crazy with her friends and far away from home. Such a laugh when you describe how you were the only two girls without pierced ears, t.v., etc.–Oh, how I relate to the gist of that. Sniff. Tear. Thanks for that momentary return to 21
September 20, 2012 @ 3:29 pm
Digging back into the photos made me so nostalgic!! Plus, kind of jarring… you think everyone still looks exactly the same, until you spend a few hours saying: oh my gosh look HOW YOUNG WE WERE! To me now, we look like little kids driving across the country!
September 20, 2012 @ 3:45 pm
How true that is about how little you notice changes in people until you look at the old pictures! Then it’s a bit scary. I saw a school friend (admittedly I’d had a few sips beforehand) a couple of years ago that I hadn’t seen in many years, and when she walked in–I stared at her dumbly for I don’t know how long until she actually had to blurt out that it was she! The worst part was, we were expecting her.
September 21, 2012 @ 7:16 am
Lol… so true. The next time someone tells me—you look exactly the same, I’m going to say, thanks, but no. Here, let me show you a photo.
September 19, 2012 @ 6:13 pm
What a wonderful tribute, and a friendship to treasure forever. Sounds like it was an absolute blast!!
September 20, 2012 @ 3:31 pm
It really was SO fun. Wish I could recapture that time!
September 20, 2012 @ 8:52 pm
I *might* have to steal that shower curtain idea! This is one of the best tribute pieces I’ve read. Thank you for sharing such a wonderful friendship! I’ve got to go call some old friends now. 🙂
September 22, 2012 @ 8:51 am
Steal away. May I recommend you make a decoder key? Even though you *think* you’ll never forget what xyz means… you will.
September 23, 2012 @ 11:13 am
Thanks for the recommendation! Will make sure to do that too! 🙂
September 25, 2012 @ 11:39 pm
I loved this post! What an amazing trip. It seems like you guys had the time of your life. All the perfect ingredients her: youth, adventure, excitement, talking through the night etc… What a lovely friendship and how generous of you to share it!
September 26, 2012 @ 9:00 am
I love how people related to this post. I love how it reminded them of some similar time in their own life…
I’d had some thoughts that it was such a departure from house-stuff that maybe people would only be politely interested…I’m so happy that wasn’t the case!! Now, if anything I feel like the rest of my posts are boring in comparison!!
October 2, 2012 @ 1:23 pm
What a wonderful story! I have had a best friend for 50 years, and although the past ten have been problematic, I remember us back then, and can relate to your friendship, especially the talking, talking, talking. I’m glad you appreciate it as you do, because there is nothing like it, and you may never experience it again. Best to both of you! Also you are both just adorable!
October 3, 2012 @ 8:32 am
For me and Lara now, we’ve gotten in the habit of treating our friendship as more-or-less self-sustaining… which means it doesn’t get any kind of priority anymore. I hadn’t even realized how much it had changed until I began writing this post. And it made me made me sad, and nostalgic, and so thankful we spent that time together, when we had it…
October 2, 2012 @ 3:37 pm
I read this when you first posted it. Reminds me very much of my friend – it sounds as though your friendship is very similar to mine. When I turned around to my friend and said that I wouldn’t go to his birthday party in Spain because the cost was equivalent to a sash-window he did mind. Although not as long (or with photos) I gave a brief summary in my blog – but the key thing I got was support.
October 3, 2012 @ 8:35 am
You’re a better house-renovator than I am!! I have a hard time prioritizing functional windows, baths, garage doors…over whatever budget-breaking fun is calling my name. Although it’s not usually a trip to Spain, it’s usually an unwieldy, antique garden urn or something…
October 5, 2012 @ 2:23 pm
This is absolutely so sweet! Love the collection of photos and OMG that shower curtain. Awesomeness.
October 5, 2012 @ 5:19 pm
Oh thank you!! I do love the photos… I wish we had taken twice as many!
October 25, 2012 @ 12:18 pm
This is such a beautiful and eloquent walk down memory lane! You captured both our unique humor and the universal nature of friendship. Even though I’m hard-pressed not to scoff at other comments (though they’re lovely) that they can’t possibly relate to just how cool we are, that they can only aspire. Which I’m sure they can also relate to! 🙂 Everyone thinks their best friend is the coolest best friend ever. I’m just the only one that’s right. Love you.
October 29, 2012 @ 10:55 am
I just spent ten minutes trying to find the source for the quote about how people who like their own writing are idiots… or something to that extent.
But? I just reread this, AND I STILL LOVE IT.
There was so much I ended up cutting out. Like the disgusting orange soy cheese. And the road not taken. And approaching the throne with confidence. And that Renaissance-themed restaurant in Dallas. And the time we went to Target in a hurricane. And the wall of conquest.
It made me miss Texas, and you, and that younger version of myself *so* much. Love you!!!
November 21, 2012 @ 6:00 pm
This made me smile so big and just plain warmed my heart! Makes me want to give my own best friend a big huge hug <3 There's just nothing like a best friend is there?? 🙂 Such a fantastic post!
November 22, 2012 @ 7:24 am
*Smile.* Thank you so much… you’re right there is nothing like a best friend. And it’s a good day to remember to be thankful for all the people we love!
Happy Thanksgiving!
March 13, 2013 @ 11:47 pm
Loved this blog about your girlfriend and the move to Texas! Growing up with 4 sisters I loved very much, I could really relate to the laughter. Life doesn’t get much better than this. Love the shower curtain too.
March 14, 2013 @ 11:12 am
I WISH I had four sisters. As much as I love my brothers… I always wanted a sister. Lara does feel like one, but without an official family tie, we’re not “required” to see each other…
If she was my real sister I’d see her at least at holidays and summer vacation. But we live so far away, it’s easy to let an unbelievable amount of time go by.
June 25, 2013 @ 11:42 am
I just found your blog and of course clicked this post because I live in Texas. Imagine my surprise when you said that you ended up in Ft. Worth. I grew up in Ft. Worth but moved to Arlington when I was 18. I was also 22 in the fall of 1999 (but I was married and had a baby in November that year). I wonder how you got to Ft. Worth, why you decided to stop there, where you lived (not address – but like what section of the city), how long you stayed, why you left, how you got back to PA? I’m full of questions!
June 28, 2013 @ 11:28 am
We lived in an apartment, sort of near the mall? I’m foggy now on the intersections, but near Hulen? We were close to the mall. The apartments were called Hulen Gardens…
I’m going to do a follow up on this for Lara’s birthday this year… Ft. Worth was truly random. We just drove until we found a place we liked. I do get that it’s sort of odd. But it suited us. And, also the place didn’t really matter, if you know what I mean.
June 27, 2013 @ 2:16 pm
You truly have a gift and inbetween craigslist shopping should be writing a book. Loved this story, what a sweet sweet tribute!
June 28, 2013 @ 11:28 am
xo!!! THANK you. MADE my day.
June 28, 2013 @ 2:48 am
Your post has this 61 year old lady in tears… for things missed out on in her life. And yet, also joy, to know that there are people one can be friends with who are not all about ‘taking’ from someone. The last sentence is what really hit me… “being with someone who really wants to be with you”… I never really had that… not even during a 30 year marriage that ended in divorce 6 years ago. I’ve often wondered what it would be like, to be able to talk, and talk, and talk… and have someone who wanted to listen. And to be able to laugh extravagantly and freely at anything and everything. To be that happy. I so very much enjoyed the story of that time in your life. I enjoyed learning that those kind of relationships really can exist between people. Thank you so much for sharing it. It blessed my inner child immensely. Hugs to you.
June 28, 2013 @ 11:33 am
I just told Lara to come read your comment, it was so moving. Thank you for sharing… I know that painful times can be very dark, and I HOPE that right around the corner is some thing bright and wonderful!! (And maybe shaped like a kingdom)
xo, Victoria
June 28, 2013 @ 11:36 am
LaurieC it’s never too late–I know that V and I are blessed but I think there’s someone out there for you to laugh and talk with. Thank you for reading about us and for commenting, and I hope this is a sign of a turning point for you, before finding a beautiful connection of your own.
June 28, 2013 @ 7:45 pm
I don’t know if there has ever been a more loving tribute to a friend. You transported me back to that age and time and my own trip to Texas (Austin… where I still am 5 years later!) even though it was a whole different kind of trek. But the excitement and the open road and the feeling that the world is your oyster? Amazing. And then I moved in with my now husband as roommates, and we had those same fantastic laughing and talking experiences before we realized that it could be more. What fantastic times. Thanks for taking me back. 🙂
June 29, 2013 @ 1:01 pm
Magic… right? I’d give anything to recapture it.
Loved your story. Must be something special about TX.
xo Victoria
June 30, 2013 @ 9:30 am
Great to see this…. I know Lara from our local library (Newmarket, NH)- a lovely person!
July 1, 2013 @ 2:26 pm
She is! I’m jealous you see her more than once every few years!!
July 3, 2013 @ 1:36 am
I’ve never lived on my own (I’ve lived alone with my son but that doesn’t really count does it?) I’ve never lived with my BFF so I can only close my eyes and picture us in your pictures. A few weeks ago she moved and left me in California and fled to Alabama. I miss her. I loved your tribute to Lara. I also love your blog. I shared it on Facebook with Jackie and she said the 3 of us would totally be BBF’s.
July 8, 2013 @ 7:03 am
I absolutely LOVED this blog! It made me laugh, smile, tear-up and cherish my best friend even more! Thank you! Can’t wait to read all your posts. Wonderful!!!
July 10, 2013 @ 10:51 am
you and your friend are so lucky to have this ‘friendship’
July 10, 2013 @ 1:00 pm
What a darling sweet post! you brought real tears to my eyes, not only laughing at your laughter together but the special friendship communion you had and still have…so so dear..xo jody