Yesterday Julia met me for lunch. She gave me this:
9th grade class picture (yes of COURSE I have my 9th grade picture on the internet - I have no shame).
I happen to remember (because I happen to be insane, and I was awake half last night trying to remember this, and then I verified it with a calendar this morning, because I am insane) that the first day of second grade was my seventh birthday - Tuesday, September 5, 1989.
Jesus H. Christ.
On my birthday, this Saturday, I'll have known Julia for twenty. damn. years.
We've been friends since 1989.
The year of The Earthquake.
The year my great grandfather died.
The year I learned to love to read.
The year I lost a great big chunk of finger.
The year I got kicked out of G.A.T.E.
The year of my first piano recital.
I've known Julia for longer than my two youngest brothers. Through school changes and college and moves and grad school and relationships and becoming a mom.
Julia and I have been friends for a long-ass time, is all I'm saying.
20 years is a really, really long time.
I love you sugar.
EDIT: At Julia's request, a picture of us now (be careful what you wish for....):