Studette of the Month - June 2009

First of all, we call her K.L.E.B., short for 'Kristi Loves Everybody'. And she does.

There are some friends in life that are such a part of your existence, that you have to wonder if you are friends just because life put you together.

Kristi and I decided we were best friends when we were Sunbeams in Primary; we were three years old. It only made sense right? We lived in the same city only minutes from each other. We went to the same church. We are both the oldest girls in our family. Our two little sisters are exactly the same age. We worked at the same place in high school. We attended the same seminary. We attended the same proms. We shared the same friends. We were in the same gym class. We are both equally uncoordinated.

With so much commonality, I used to wonder if we were just situational friends.

But she loves Disney, boardgames, Boston and 'The Boys'. She loves pop-culture, shopping, penguins, Princess Dianna, and scrap booking. I love literature, architecture, the outdoors, camping, world travel, and running. Her blog is dedicated to Disney, mine is dedicated to deep, ponderous thoughts.

But situational friendships don't last 30 years.

Situational friends forget you once the situation ends. Kristi called me every week my first year of college...EVERY WEEK, pre-cellphone era, on her own accord, when we had to pay dearly for long distance. She remembers my birthday every year, even though I haven't been home for a birthday since I was 17. She used to send me care packages from New Hampshire containing pieces of New Hampshire that I might be missing (like a sand dollar...because she knew I missed the beach). She was at the airport when I came home from my mission AND she wrote me while I was gone. A visit home necessarily includes a visit with Kristi; there has never been an exception. Because that would defy the unspoken K.L.E.B. code. She has forgiven me for my stupid humanness repeatedly (keep in mind that we were friends through junior high and high school) because of her K.L.E.B. nature. She has seen all my vices and loves me anyway. She gives without the expectation of return.

I used to think that K.L.E.B.'s were normal and could be discovered in abundance. But I've discovered that a true K.L.E.B. is a rarity. I am grateful that I got one...my very own K.L.E.B.

Even Though

Life is beautiful. I believe that. I believe that even though I don't have air conditioning in 90 degree weather. I believed that when I was spending 12 hour days studying for the bar. I believe that even though...even though there are a lot of even though's in my life.

Tonight my housemate comments, "Chantal, for the last two nights I have heard the voice of a man. He calls my name."

I begin to freak out. "What? From outside the window? A man is calling your name from outside the window!!"

"No, inside the house. He calls my name."

I should interject here that my roommate speaks much better English than I speak Spanish, but there is still a significant language barrier. I should also point out that her room is RIGHT ACROSS THE HALL FROM ME.

Resuming the story: I continue freaking out. "You hear the audible voice of a man, inside our house, at night, calling your name?!"

She begins to see that I am not understanding fully what she is trying to express. Her voice becomes hushed.

"No, it is not like that. I feel good. It is a voice and he tells me that he is aware of me, and he is watching over me. I feel so good after, so peaceful that I can sleep the rest of the night."

Sleeping at all is somewhat of a miracle in this 90 degree weather, but slowly I begin to understand the full import what she is saying. He knows her by name. He is watching over her. He has not forgotten her, even though...even though there are a lot of even though's right now.

A Tribute to Men and Boys on Fathers' Day

Normally on Father's Day I would talk about my dad, but I did that last year. If you want to read it see here. Instead, I would like to express my appreciation to guys in general.

In my life, guys have always been somewhere in the picture. I was born between two brothers, and I loved it. I LOVE my sisters, but I was so glad to grow up with the boys. We didn't sit around fussing about our hair and shopping, we played. I grew to appreciate early on the playfulness of guys, thanks to my brothers. We made forts with the furniture, went sledding in crazy places, built towers in the back yard and explored the woods. My high school years were spent hiking, canoeing, running, cross country skiing and rollerblading thanks to my brothers and guy friends.

I love the way guys always skip rocks by the water. I love the way old men always have to crack a joke. I love the sense of adventure that isn't matched in us female counterparts.

I love helpfulness in guys. To my dad who supported me when I was training for a marathon by biking behind me for 14 MILES, VOLUNTARILY so he could give me water and whatever else I needed while I was running. To my little brother who never thought twice when it came to helping me scrub my car our after long road trips. To my older brother who drove hours just so he could spend a few hours with me when I was home one year. To the countless guy friends who have helped me move over the years, or patch my roof, put up dry wall, put trim up, replace car tires, or fix a shattered car window.

I love being a woman. I do. But I am grateful for men, all of the men who have added so greatly to the quality of my life. Thank you for your playfulness, humor, responsibility, help and friendship.