I love you more than I can say. I love how much you care about people and things. I love it when you finally get the courage to say what you're thinking. I love you for sharing your family and your home with me.
That is really insightful of you--even though I am far more comfortable than I have been in years (decades?), I'm still fighting self-consciousness a lot of the time. And just, yeah. I am proud when I get that courage, and thank you for acknowledging it.
It's hard but YOU GOT THIS, you always got this, and you're the only person who is worried about how your hair looks, or what your legs or arms look like, ya cardigan. :P
I'm the same way with my terrible job. I'm not ready to move on yet, but I feel ya. GET THE BALL ROLLING IF YOU WANT, LET ME KNOW, AND I'LL YELL AT YOU UNTIL YOU DO IT OTHERWISE.
You are such an awesome person and everyone knows it. Like, even my dad knows it. At fourth of July this year he was like "I miss Amber and her crazy flag outfit." And then followed it up by saying "She is such a nice person" and we chatted a bit about how amazing it is that the internet gave me one of my best friends.
One of my favorite things to do with you is nothing--just hanging out and watch terrible television, or reading next to each other interspersed with bursts of conversation when one of us thinks of something we can't wait to share. But I also really love when we overcome our homebody ways and get out and enjoy your adopted city. I wish I had more opportunities to come meet you and work and go to dinner like we did a couple months ago (totes worth it especially as we got pictures at the Kane memorial).
You are my chosen sister and I know I can come to you with anything, no matter how personal, and I really really appreciate that.
Also, it is your fault that I am hockey trash. Goddamnit.
Dude, right? That's all I really can say in response to this, besides, YES, AND i love that nothing is too personal. see: the terrible dreams you have WHERE YOU KILL OFF YOUR HUSBAND AND DON'T EVEN REALIZE IT.
Also, just own your hockey trash. Nobody will judge you. Well, everyone will judge you, but I'll be there, bearing all the smut in the world for you.
Jules, you are so lovely and interesting. Because of you I have learned so much about Detroit, Canada, fake France, fake Tiffany, how to smuggle Kinder eggs, and cheesy potatoes. I'm sorry that we have to be enemies during the hockey playoffs, but now that it's summer again we are free to love each other. I routinely forget that I've known you for a really short amount of time, but luckily we have made up for a lot of that with the Facebook thread that spiraled from "hey sorry FB is a creeper" to a beautiful beacon of comfort throughout my day. You are wonderful and please know you are always welcome in Chicago--I know Mel will want to steal you next time you visit, so we'll fight over you, k? Thank you for your constant words of support. I am so glad you are in my life!
You have THE BEST taste in music, and I so respect how steadfast you are in things that you believe in and how easily you call bullshit on things you don't (in the best way possible). I can't wait to do something spectator sporty with you in the (hopefully near) future. And I promise that if you ever come to Detroit I will drive you by Jack White's childhood home.
That would be awesome to see! Did you ever see the photos of Jack's old Detroit home he put up for sale when he moved to Nashville? The floors were all red, black, and/or white. Committing to a theme there, Jack.
HA! No, I haven't seen that! There's another house in a neighborhood that borders where he grew up that's painted BRIGHT red with white trim, and I always think of it as The White Stripes House. That Jack, he's something. ;)
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One of my favorite things to do with you is nothing--just hanging out and watch terrible television, or reading next to each other interspersed with bursts of conversation when one of us thinks of something we can't wait to share. But I also really love when we overcome our homebody ways and get out and enjoy your adopted city. I wish I had more opportunities to come meet you and work and go to dinner like we did a couple months ago (totes worth it especially as we got pictures at the Kane memorial).
You are my chosen sister and I know I can come to you with anything, no matter how personal, and I really really appreciate that.
Also, it is your fault that I am hockey trash. Goddamnit.
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Also, just own your hockey trash. Nobody will judge you. Well, everyone will judge you, but I'll be there, bearing all the smut in the world for you.
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Thank you for your tacit endorsement of my endeavors
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You are my favorite not-Canadian Canadian. Technically you are the only non-Canadian Canadian I know, but you would still be my favorite.
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