Tag Archives: Friendship

Girlfriend Selfies

5 Feb

There’s a particular breed of selfie out there that I’ve dubbed The Girlfriend Selfie.

Girlfriend Selfies are taken with the express intent to send to your girlfriends.  They are not meant to be seen by the public.  They are not meant for the boys you like.  They are meant, and exist only in the world of girl.

I most often use my Girlfriend Selfies to:

  1. Show off a great outfit
  2. Show off a bad outfit
  3. Show off a great hair day
  4. Show off a bad hair day
  5. Garner opinions on a new muumuu

photo-208

Boom shakalaka panda muumuu shakalaka I BOUGHT THAT THING.

The line to crazy town may have been crossed.

Girlfriend selfies are the greatest of all selfies because there is no thought put into them.  No lips are puckered.  No filter is applied.  No mirror is wiped down.  It’s just pure you and the moment you need to have someone validate.

For the record, I only ever send Girlfriend Selfies because other selfies seem like a lot of work.  Also, I try my best not to pucker my lips.

Here’s a Girlfriend Selfie I got from Cait and whoa would you look at her bomb eyelashes???

photo-209

(Example of the Girlfriend Selfie validation).

I sent Cait a particularly crappy sunglasses selfie earlier this week (after I sent the pic to Ash, who had sent me the sunglasses, to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I don’t know why she swallowed the fly) and Cait said, “Love juuu.  Take many pictures today. And off to McD.”

10 minutes later I got the following text: “Just did a riveting performance of Javert’s suicide.”

And thus ended our communication for the day.

We didn’t need more.  Our Girlfriend Selfies had done all the talking.

So Much Love

31 Jan

photo 2-2 photo 1

These pictures are blurry and pixelated and scream, “selfie with a flipped iPhone camera,” but I can’t help it, they deserved their own post.

So much love in two photos.

I want to remember this night, standing in line for UCB amongst the smoking hipsters with their ironic Stanford sweatshirts.  I want to remember the celebrity Scientology building across the street and the oddly pulsating light from the top room.  (How alarmed, exactly, should we have been?)

I want to remember Caitlin’s “you can’t sit with us” shirt and my floral mini dress and Caitlin saying, “Of course they’ll hire you, they’ll take one look at you and DONE” and how I laughed and sashayed my dress .

I want to remember The Yeti.

I always remember The Yeti, never mind.

Caitlin and I were a set up friendship, as weird as that sounds.  I’ve never had another one, and kind of hope I never do.  Kit Kat was enough, thank you very much.

(Just as I am Mary in About Time, Caitlin is so very Kit Kat, in all the best, barefoot partying ways.)

My friend Mindy knew Cait from college and when I announced I was going to Pepperdine Mindy did the, “Hey I have a friend going there” thing and then a FB friendship was started that turned to a texting friendship that turned to a roommate BFFship.   From the get-go I realized that this girl was interesting, and I adore interesting.

Friendship stories, why don’t we tell them more often?

Why do we only tell romantic relationship stories?

In the past two years, Cait has been so many things to me.  She’s been my Sunday drive companion, an equal in Adele duets.  She’s been the Cosette to my Eponine.  The Javert to my Valjean.  The Kanye to my Jay-Z.

She’s hugged me while I sobbed and told me, “Listen, I can’t do this anymore.  If you want to continue this relationship with him, you will have to stop telling me about it.  I can’t watch you do this to yourself.”

I am grateful for that.

And then she’s listened to me anyway when I made the same mistake again and again.

I am even more grateful for that.

I’ve learned a great many things from Caitlin, as you do with those so different from yourself. Sometimes people who spend time with both of us comment on how similar we are, and I kind of look at them funny.  We have a rhythm as friends that Cait likes to call “double dutch jump roping,” but we are so very, very different.

In one, very odd, very sleep-medicine fueled Google Hangout, I ended up post midnight chatting with Caitlin and a boy she had once dated.  We talked about the things we liked best in each other and this boy, whom I still don’t know very well said, “You have Caitlin’s back.  Just talking to you, I can tell you are in her corner.”

He was right.

She has mine, too.

There is something so very valuable about a true friendship.  I know my family loves me and I love them dearly, but it’s different.  I was born and therefore they love.  Friends who choose to love me when they most certainly do not have to?  What a privilege.

What a beautiful privilege.

Caitlin has taught me that the best remedy for life is to dance more.  She’s taught me that pants are never necessary, and compression hugs heal most wounds.  She’s woken me up singing “I’m going to find another you” and left class to get In-N-Out with me in emotional emergency, and offered me her pillow when my anxiety was so great I wasn’t sleeping.  When I text her “I’m moody as hell” she just says, “Good, you’re back to normal.”

I don’t know if these things can be conveyed in a single picture, or in two pictures, or in a lifetime of photos, but these blurry, pixelated selfies with a flipped iPhone camera come about as close as I’ve seen.

So much love in two photos.

So much love.

 

Thelma And Louise

16 Oct

112

Image

The other night after class I headed up the PCH to the place formerly called home.

I hadn’t done that yet this semester for a number of wishy washy reasons that involve carpooling and late classes and other things that seemed important but probably weren’t.

Last week, though, I made it to North Malibu and back to the Caitlin/Jill apartment of yore.

Cait screamed when I knocked on the door.  A loud, over-the-top scream that continued on even when she let me in the apartment.

I have missed that.

I have missed that more than I thought.

We spent the night sitting on Caitlin’s bed talking about a little of this and a little of that and a whole lot of nothing.

Caitlin soon found herself in the Affair to Remember pose, blanket tucked over her, arms perched on her stomach. I soon found myself saying, “All I want is to wear my glitter skirt somewhere and maybe my glitter shirt on top of it and then probably never take either off again.”

Which is to say, soon we found ourselves exactly where we’ve always been.

We laughed at my inappropriate laugh in class.  We laughed at our latest dating disasters.  We laughed as Caitlin suggested we were Thelma and Louise and pulled up a picture of Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis and decided she was a Geena and I was a Susan.

I mean, the scarf and glasses.

I mean, the gun.

We laughed and laughed and talked and talked and at one point I did a dramatic reading of the Thelma & Louise Wikipedia page so we could relate it to our lives.

I find myself giving a dramatic reading of something or other quite a bit these days.  It’s one of those things I’ve discovered about myself in adulthood and knew about myself in childhood—I love to read things out loud.

I can’t tell you exactly what it was about that Malibu evening that made it so special.  It was simple and regular and I don’t remember most of what was said or done.  I just remember the feeling.

It’s the feeling that I forget I need when I just go through life and don’t pause for glitter skirts, Thelma and Louise, and An Affair to Remember nights.

It’s the feeling of, “I am understood completely. I am me completely.”

Birthdays, Birthdays, Birthdays

1 Sep

photo-180

Last week was Caitlin’s birthday, and as anyone who has spent the month of October in my presence knows, birthdays are a huge deal to me.

I hate the idea that the older we get the less birthdays matter.  Who came up with that?  The older we get the MORE birthdays matter.  The older we get the less others dote on us, and the more we need just one day a year to be The Great Star Of The Universe.

Great Sparkling Queen Star Of The Universe?

You’re right.  Just Great Star Of The Universe.

For Caitlin’s birthday this year, we ventured into LA.  Apparently this is a thing now.  Twice a year we go into LA, once for each of our birthdays, and after an hour or so we look at each other and say, “Yeah, we don’t need to be doing this again any time soon, do we?”  I then launch into a spiel about how happy I am we decided not to live in LA and Caitlin nods like she’s hearing this for the first time.

As friends do.

We met at The Ivy for lunch, where I took a wonderfully TMZ picture of Cait jumping over a pothole.  Fun fact: the parking job seen in this photo was the THIRD parking spot in a two-hour period.

LA! FUN!

The Ivy is all shabby chic and rich people, or at least tourists pretending to be rich people, and Cait and I ordered off the starter menu and called it good. I did valet my car though, so that gives me some points, right?

No?

LA! FUN!

The celebration continued with Kitson necklaces and Kitson chapsticks and Georgetown Cupcakes and monster diet cokes and a half hour, 1.5 mile round trip to get said diet cokes, because this is LA we are talking about.

I made sure my chapstick was less impressive than Cait’s necklace because I didn’t want to step on her Great Star Of The Universe Day in any way.

As friends do.

I also made sure I complimented her fancy eyelashes, said “Happy Birthday” countless times, and planned several other celebrations for the rest of the month.

As friends do when you are the Great Star Of The Universe.

Happy Birthday, Caitlin dearest.  I’m ever-so-happy to have spent the last year avoiding LA with you.  You are the very definition of a Great Sparkling Queen Star Of The Universe.

Kindred Souls

14 Apr

photo-135

My lovely friend Elisa had a layover in LA yesterday and I got to spend a few hours with her.  It was a day full of giggling and screaming and talking so fast you have to slow down to catch your breath.  I love those days.

When Elisa saw me she said, “Look at you!”  I told her I was regretting my outfit since it was so cold outside and she just laughed, “Jill, a sexy choice is never the wrong choice.”

This is why I love her.

We spent the day eating our way through Newport and reminiscing about our friendship.  Elisa and I became instant friends in London.  Instant like, oh-my-gosh-I’ve-just-met-a-kindred-soul instant.  Instant like, you-are-one-of-two-people-who-understand-me-and-I-don’t-even-know-who-the-other-person-is instant.

Last year we found ourselves back in Utah trying to figure our lives out, yet again. Elisa had applied to an MBA program in Scotland and I had applied to my writing program in Malibu.  We were scared.  Excited.  Wondering if we would regret these drastic changes.  Wondering if we had a problem allowing ourselves to be happy.

A year later, over breakfast bagels, brunch cupcakes, and a luxurious Mexican food lunch we decided no, we don’t have a problem.  We are happy.  Those decisions were good for us.

Thank everything for friends like Elisa.

This Is Friendship

28 Feb

c944e45a634704e8_photo-2_2_9GRJgk_wm.xxxlarge

Image

A friend is someone who assures you that if Prince Harry knew you, he’d totally be into you.

A friend is someone who knows your Taco Bell order.

A friend is someone who makes you a breakup mix for a crush that never came to fruition.

A friend is someone who pulls you around on a rope and teaches you to rollerblade.

A friend is someone who mourns Nora Ephron’s death with you.

A friend is someone who has a seven hour Skype conversation with you from across the Atlantic because you are homesick.

A friend is someone who can list every possible person “You’re So Vain” could be referring to in your life.

A friend is someone who talks to you so much her 2-year-old recognizes your voice.

A friend is someone who takes each, individual, millionth ending with the same boy as seriously as the first time.

A friend is someone who asks how you are doing THE DAY AFTER SHE GIVES BIRTH even though clearly you’re not the one that just survived labor and delivery.

That’s friendship. Thirteen years of friendship.

I don’t deserve it.  But I’ll take it.