A long, long time ago, I was the new kid.  I had never once in my life been the new kid.  I had vowed not to be the weird girl in boots & wranglers ever again, so my first day at Walters State I dressed in a cute little tank top, little khaki shorts, & trendy sandals.  (I was not only young, but thin, back then)
My plans, at usual, got wrecked.  I spilled my sprite all over my shorts in route to Morristown.  You would think this wouldn’t be such a big deal, since it’s a clear drink, & would have plenty of time to dry in that early September heat, but that wasn’t necessarily the case.  My shorts were dry clean only.  So they had big dark spots all over them.  Luckily, I had a change of clothes in my car….a pair of wranglers & old brown boots.  So much for fitting in.
Imagine my surprise upon walking into my first class & everyone was dressed JUST LIKE ME!
I didn’t want to be the nerd who sat down front, & the back row was already full of ‘baccer chewing cowboys being rowdy & loud.  I sat down in the middle row & tried to be inconspicuous.
Not too long after that, this girl blew in wearing red jeans & a very shiny belt buckle.  She sat next to me.
We struck up conversation after having a laugh about always running late.  Turns out, she lived in Sevier County too!  And obviously, we had horses in common, too.  Gaited horses, at that.
It was the start of a friendship that has lasted all these years.  Amazingly enough…because on occasion she would try to make me sick by eating stuff without using antibacterial liquid on her hands after working cattle…or clearing her throat while I’d be trying to scarf down biscuits & gravy.  Even though she tried to get me killed, repeatedly. Once, by putting me on this stupid Appendix QH she was trying to sell that she was afraid to ride.  Another time, she put me on her crazy padded Morgan, bareback, “just to see how she was movin'”. We drove crazy, we rode crazy, heck, we ARE crazy.  I have stood with her as she got married, Kmart cups and limos, & she stood by me in mine, sweat dripping.  We’ve danced and sang and made up words when there were none appropriate. We’ve cried into margaritas & mudslides, azalea bushes, & horses’ manes.  We’ve cried on each others’ shoulders, & I’ve cried on her parents like they were my own.  There’s too many stories to tell.  We’ve probably had more “stuff’ happen to us than I have with any of my other friends.  She’s one of those friends I don’t talk to often, but I could call up in the middle of the night, & say, “What’s that Chris LeDoux song about parkin’ cars in the ol’ pea patch?” & she’d never bat an eye. I hope you have a very Happy Birthday!!! Love ya sis.  More than you know.