Many times in the past few weeks Kate has taken my call only to say “What? hon, I can’t understand you.”
When the heaving, sobbing, hopeless cries take over I know I can call Kate.
“Just talk to me.” Which probably sounds more like “juh tall ta meeee.”
Kate is a presence. She’s tall and loud, she talks fast (and sometimes with her mouth full) and she’s smart. She’s easy-going and I can’t honestly remember a time in the past 24 years when she’s been bitchy or curt. Kate has an awesome laugh.
Kate’s a little perverted, like me and you can tell her anything.
Even in junior high, Kate always seemed like the grown up. She was the truly independent one, but also the most social. Kate has always been the one we go to when we have a secret and need a confidante. If you are ashamed of yourself, or giddy over some dirty little deed, call Kate.
The first time I got drunk (at 8 in the morning! skipping school! REBEL) my friends dumped me at Kate’s house so she could take care of me.
Kate’s the first one I told about an awful experience I had when I was 14, when I was too scared or embarrassed to tell anyone else.
When I had no place to go home to for Christmas break my junior year of college, I stayed with Kate.
I’ve been trying to think of my favorite story to tell about Kate, but most of them I wouldn’t dare post here on the interwebs. Even I have my limits. I have tons of fun memories of Kate.
But aside from being a blast to hang out with, Kate is a constant. She’s our confidante. And she’s a damn good friend. God I can’t wait to see that girl.