Day 13: Where SF got its roots

(Saturday) Every time I see my best friend, Andrea (or Ess, for those of you that know us), I realize just how super our friendship is.

That Ess nickname? Short for super friend, which stems back to the days when acronyms for everything began to infiltrate the vernacular of CMU students. Not only did Ess and I find it absurd that people actually weaved OMG, WTF, BFF into conversation as if they were real words, we felt far superior to the BFF label; it seemed everyone was throwing out BFF to anyone who crossed their path. We weren’t just a BFF flavor of the week. We were the real deal! (If you’re not gagging by now, I give you permission to roll your eyes. 😉

One chilly morning on our trek to the tailgating parking lot, the Busch Light triggered the grandest idea. We are super friends! Thus SF was born and the rest is history. Some time later, we dropped the F and, to this day, still refer to one another as Ess.

Together we might be labeled ridiculous. It’s true. We’re ridiculously funny. We have a ridiculous amount of fun wherever we go. We could have a book by now based on the ridiculous situations we manage to find. Like last night, my Ess was victim to a purse snatcher. Hours were spent canceling cards and comparing locksmith rates, shedding tears about losing hundreds. And then! The snatcher called. Shocking, huh? We spent another hour tracking her down. Half the day was spent.

But I managed to drive her by what I hope will be my new home just before the rain clouds covered the daylight. Now if only she could be my neighbor; it’d be an SF dream come true! Either way, she’ll be chock full of good advice when it comes to homeownership. Now, after once again being a fantastic friend and wingman, she’s back in Illinois with HSF (that’d be husband SF). Until next time, Calin and I will miss her while we get ready for the big move.