Yes, I am blogging about Phil Collins.

I keep my bathroom iPod on shuffle, and every morning I'm stuck with this annoying little routine where I click through about 50 songs trying to pick out three songs in a row that I actually enjoy that will last me through my shower.

(I was using my iPod as storage when I had to replace my hard drive in November, and then the hard drive on my IPOD died and so I can listen to the songs but can't connect the device to my computer... I have a reference to an iPod repair place thing, but they take a long time sometimes so it'll be smarter to wait to fix it until I move, and I'm getting an iTouch for my birthday next month anyway.)

Anyway, yesterday I stumbled upon Phil Collin's "Can't Stop Loving You," which had tremendous meaning for me (I KNOW.) in high school. My best friend in high school... gosh. We were like yin and yang. My mom disliked her pretty much ONLY because we made so much noise. We were ridiculous together, and had so much fun together, and she was there for me through everything and introduced me to the Catholic Church and ... just, everything. I guess she's the first person with whom the word "soulmate" made sense to me.
(Background: Our friendship REALLY kicked off September/October of our sophomore year, and she transferred to public school for junior year.)

The first day back at school from Christmas break during our junior year, she called me for one of what had become our daily marathon phone sessions to tell me that her parents had decided to move them to Ohio, of all places, for her senior year of high school. Naturally, my heart completely shattered. I basically sat in my room for hours, crying and listening to Vitamin C's "Friends Forever" on repeat. (Still can't listen to that song without tearing up.) I actually didn't wear makeup to school the next day! And this was high school! People asked me if I was terminally ill.

Anyway, the whole situation was life-changing. I wrote my AP English autobiography assignment about it. My mother's sociopathic lack of sympathy about it was what cemented our divide. We stayed in touch, of course, but I am absolutely terrible at long-distance relationships and so consequently we don't talk very much. Facebook and LiveJournal are wonderful inventions - we can spy on each other's goings-on without having to pick up a phone. Clearly not optimal but the best I can do most of the time, apart from my annual trip up to Ohio (on my way to Michigan) where I can stop in at her place for an evening. But now, FINALLY, we are going to be in the same city again. It's such a relief, and totally funny how fate works out.

New York is not scary at all when I think about having her there with me. To be fair, she's moving there to be with her boyfriend, and if I've learned anything about boyfriends in the last two years that I've lived with The Roommate, I've learned to be realistic about how much time they're going to want to share with me. Of course, I adore her boyfriend (he's BRITISH!!) so that helps. But it's so funny to think of how life works out. I don't think the City is ready for us...