In highschool I met some really wonderful girls. Though I was the only “northender” of the group (a fact that I was reminded of frequently), I was welcomed into this group of girls with open arms. As we embark on our 10th year of friendship, I’m reminded of how much we have all been through, and how far we have all come from those young, naive, 16-year-old girls.
The friendship began when I met Erin, or as she’s better known throughout the city – EGJ (this is still the name she’s under in my phone. I don’t care if you ever change your name, it will always be EGJ). Her and I dated 2 boys who were good friends. I soon became a regular at parties, pub-crawls and the infamous cabaret’s that flooded our teenage lives. Through Erin I was introduced to so many girls, I don’t think I can even remember them all, and throughout these past 10 years some have come and gone, some are still around and some may have dropped off the edge of the earth.
When we were younger our numbers were large. There were easily 15 of us, at all times, that you could find at any given bar, on any given night. We were in and out of relationships, sometimes when they say, “remember this guy?” truth be told, I have no idea who they’re talking about. But that could also just be the northender in me too! I was one that was in a relationship. Looking back, I was stupid. I spent way too much time with him and not enough with my girlfriends (sound familiar female readers?). Lucky for me, they over-looked this and always welcomed me back when I came up for air. I don’t have many regrets in life, but honestly, that is one of them – not spending enough time with my girls.
Most of us attended University together at U of R, frequently having classes together. This worked perfectly as it allowed us to stay up half the night eating smothered cheese fries doing everything BUT studying, at Denny’s during midterms and finals. Every weekend held some sort of celebration – big or small – that involved primping, prepping, alcohol, and the loudest group of outdoor voices spoken indoors, one can bear.
Some of us lived together, some of us just over-stayed our welcome. Some of us convocated together, some of us just ate the cheese fries. Some of us moved away, and then came back, and then moved away again.
Now, I could go into depth about some of the ridiculous skeletons that hide in our closets. Some of the stories that I’m sure will come up at future weddings and cause mild heart-attacks. But I don’t want to focus this particular entry on embarrassing both myself and my beautiful friends. I want to focus on the importance of friends and friendship – especially mine. *awwwwwe*
Last night we had a girls night. The last time we were all together was probably March or April. It’s difficult to find a time that works for 6 people when some have babies, husbands, new houses, demanding schedules, and a severe case of morning sickness! When I’m with these girls, I feel so at-home. No one has given me the stability, support, and love, like they have for the past 10 years. I’m truly fortunate to have them. I know every girl probably feels that way about their group of friends, and so they should! But these girls are something special. The situations that we’ve each faced individually has brought us so much closer as a group. Through bad break-ups, family problems, diagnosis’, engagements, weddings, babies, and ‘scares’ of every shape and form, we come back to each other, like family.
Now, I was born an Ogilvie, I had no choice with that shit. But these girls, I chose as my family. When I refer to “the girls” everyone knows exactly who I mean. What I love about us, is that we aren’t the stereotypical group of girls. Everyone is given a chance with us, we are all extremely nice and easy to get along with, there’s no ‘bitch’ of the group. We know that we can bring in an outsider and they won’t be judged or treated any differently. I’ve always believed myself to be a feminist, and there isn’t one girl in the group who is a weak link. We are all strong, intelligent and beautiful.
I’m not a hugger, or a touchy-feely sort of person. But I hope in writing this, the girls know exactly how I feel about them. Maybe I don’t text enough, call enough, visit enough, but I have this warm, fuzzy spot in my heart where they all stay. That spot has never been broken, it’s never ached, it’s always been filled with love.
Now just in case this goes public, and other girl friends of mine read this and say, “what the fuck?” I will write about you later! Like everyone, I have different groups who I consider near and dear to my heart. But you’re categorized. Bri and Candace – you really are family. I’ll always be your cousin from your adopted Uncle Label and Aunt Stripper Pole. And Mandy and Stephanie – you were and continue to be the little sisters I never had. The ones who know the creepy depths of my weirdness, and I, yours.
You won’t get a ton of sentiment out of my blog. I try and be whitty and a jack-ass really as much as possible. It’s theraputic for me. But I’m also such a great believer in the power of strong women, that I need to acknowledge them the best way I know how. In ranting.