Birthday number three.

I'm currently sitting in Victoria's room waiting for her to get dressed. We're going to Theresa's birthday party. This is the third birthday this week. Christine's party was last night and it was an excellent turnout if I do say so myself.

I helped Victoria jumpstart her car today. And she taught me about alternators. We're the most unlikely pair of people you can find. Perhaps this is why I like her so much.

She's almost 19, a Mexican, short, and just like a boy. I'm halfway to 20, taller, white as all get out, and too girly for most. She wears heels most every day. I wear them on occasion. She drives a 1980s corvette that she works on by herself. I drive an almost brand new kia which I don't know the carbeurator from the muffler. She speaks fluent spanish and english. I'm monolingual. She jumps fences and climbs trees and is afraid of crickets. I have no muscle to jump a fence and no ability to climb a tree, and crickets do not scare me in the least. She can make friends with anyone. I'm so socially awkward no one knows how to perceive me.

I speak and write grammatically correct. She has trouble spelling the word "orange." I have the guts to stand up for myself at the drop of a hat. She's too submissive to most. I'm a fish in water. She can barely swim. I have a way with wits that creates laughs. She has a way of laughing at herself that makes others laugh. I trip over my own shadow. She can navigate a crowded lunchroom in her heels without swinging her hips. I need things. She wants things.

It's strange that we're friends.
But without her, I am left bereft.

Professor Alexander was shocked in class on Thursday. He asked me if I had a best friend. I shook my head yes. He asked if I would give my life for her. I said if it came to it, of course. He said she must be worth it. Uh, totally.

Well, at least I got a friend, right?