One of Three Hundred and Seventeen

In the midst of my teen-aged years, at age fourteen, I started a list. It began in my Five Star college-ruled notebook. I wrote it in pencil, and I can recall starting it, and adding to it, from where I sat at the desk in my room on the second floor of my parent's Cape on a busy road in New Bedford.

The desk that I sat at, from age fourteen to age sixteen, was a lame, somewhat rickety, fiberboard construction - what my dad had granted to me in favor of his new giant, regal desk; a desk with a recessed shelf for the computer's monitor - the screen protected by a tinted slab of glass, on each side there was a drawer, one for the printer and the paper, too, and one for files. Upgrade. For both of us. I had no desk prior to his purchase.

So from this hand-me-down fiberboard desk, I looked out onto my driveway and the house next door, and the sunset, and the traffic, and the general you-know-what... and I started to write this list. And I kept writing the list. On, and on, and... on.

The list that I wrote is entitled "Things That Make Me Happy," and it is three hundred and seventeen items long.

Now, I do, on a daily basis, recognize what makes me happy. Everyone and anyone who's had the - ahem - privilege to meet me for a minimum of five and a half seconds knows that that's the case. Regardless, when I found this list, it occurred to me that at one particular point in my life I felt it especially necessary for me to document what made me happy, even at the most basic, rudimentary level. And, reading it... makes me smile wider and wider with each list item.

I laugh. My eyes water - sometimes for good, sometimes for what I've missed or lost, or forgotten. Some sections of the list bring back certain, very specific memories, like the time I was in Nantucket for Kelly's birthday; the time I discovered New York City and taking cabs; the time Karin, Heather and I made up the nickname "King Friday."

Other items make me sigh and think, "Not much has changed in over a decade. Not much at all..." Like, for example, I still love toast, my mom, and the smell of a baby's soft scalp.

But, I digress...

Number one on the list is the topic for tonight; the introductory topic also being the list itself, but the Number One being the primary topic.

#1 Friends

Today, I moved. It was very short notice and it was very rapid. Very short notice. But, necessary. Insisted upon, in fact. So, I'm in the midst of a serious semester, I'm strapped for cash as always, and I have been trying to deal with LiG (life in general) which seems to throw crap things at me more often than not, lately. (Like somewhat severe back injuries on the week that I'm meant to move.)

Anyway. Number One on the list. My friends.

My friends, who spend an entire Sunday lifting heavy things like couches and tables, and the like.

My friends, who waded amidst a year's worth of dust bunnies and carted off furniture and furniture and boxes and boxes... and boxes.

My friends, who did seventeen point turns in fourteen foot U-Hauls in and out of parking lots.

My friends, who had homework, and boyfriend/girlfriend time, and their own LiG bullshit to deal with.

My friends, who had bridal expos and family dinners, and better things to do.

My friends, who had chest colds, and sore muscles and hangovers.

My friends, who do FAFSAs and tax returns.

My friends, who listen and talk and laugh and laugh... and laugh.

My friends, who buy me the most thoughtful and "me" birthday gifts that I want to show off to the world; "Look how awesome my friends are! Look how they know me so, so well. Look at what a lucky, lucky girl I am."

My friends.

I'm so grateful. So, so grateful, that I have these people in my life.

So, so grateful.

This is why, forever and ever amen, they will be Number One on the list. Whatever list. Any list. All lists.

Thank you, Friends.

Thank you. I love you all, always.