Every time you tell your girlfriend you love her, a puppy gets it's wings.

(Taken at the "New Moon" premier. And yes, that is a bottle of wine in that water bottle, thankyouverymuch.)

I called my father today in need of some comfort only my quirky father can provide, and this is the conversation we actually had:

Me: "Hey Dad. I just need a pick me up. What are you doing? Wait. Let me guess. Sitting in the den, watching football?"

Dad: "I resent that. I did a lot today. I took my neighbor's junk to the dump and stood in the yard talking with her for an hour. She has a bag attached to her abdomen that collects her poop, Melissa. Her husband died last year and I was the one to carry him out of the house. It's been a fruitful day."

Me: "You do realize that I am putting this conversation on my blog later, right? Even if I can't tie it in in any way? I'm doing that."

Dad: "I forgot that I can't tell you anything."

So, there that is.

I have been a bit down for about a week, but only my nearest and dearest can tell. I was talking with a close friend on the phone recently and she just came out and asked me why I have been so out of it. "Your blog entries are totally depressing." She said. "I know something is up- they haven't been very funny lately."

"Ah, but this is where you are wrong." I replied emphatically. "They have been funny. You're just confused. Or maybe they were so funny you cried, thinking that they were sad?"

"No. They were sad. You are totally bumming me out everyday."

Awesome.

I don't know why I am sad. Well, actually I do, but I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU EVERYTHING, BLOG. I'm doing that thing I do when I am pretty depressed. I put on a maniacal face. I am overly enthusiastic about everything. I maintain a hectic social life with ridiculous stamina. And then I cry myself to sleep.

It's super attractive.

I called upon a friend today when the noise got too loud in my head. She is, quite literally, the only friend I have that I simply cannot shock. She knows more about me than Jesus. I could tell her: "Hey, I accidentally killed someone," and she would just nod, take a sip of wine, and be like: "I'm sure you had a good reason. What should we do with the body?"

Friends like that are rare.

We met for lunch and she let me launch into a diatribe about life as she sat serenely across from me, nodding and soothing and motioning the waiter to bring more wine. I was surprised at the force behind my words and the emotions I was vomiting out onto the table. I was so used to biting my tongue that having the freedom to unleash my (carefully chained) fury and sadness was pretty liberating. And exhausting. And needed.

When I was done, she said the exact thing that my soul was aching to hear. "Do you know that you are beautiful? You are beautiful, and you are giving, and I am so lucky to know you and to love you in this life."

Fucking A.

I think I actually melted a little bit. My shoulders slumped, my tongue went slack, and suddenly- every vile thing that had been brewing inside of me was gone. I looked at her, pushed all of the emotional vomit aside, and said: "Did I ever tell you how fantastic you looked in that red dress when we went to Lo Coco's? I mean- you are a stone cold fox."

And I was back.

We sat there for hours, giggling, drinking red wine, and reminiscing about the day we met. We met on craigslist, actually. I had placed an ad looking for girls to start a book-club, and among the many pictures of penises I got, she replied and we met in a coffee shop.

"You came in wearing that yellow dress" she started-

"And I saw you in all black, being all European, and I was like, fuck."

"It was love at first sight." we sort of both said, but not really because life isn't a movie. In all reality she said it and then I echoed it and then we said it again a few times. Sorry to ruin the romance of it all.

But our lives are like a movie. We've seen each other through divorce, marriage, new beginnings, sad good-byes, love found and lost. She's lived with me, she's fed me, I loaned her my "Twilight" book and we both became obsessed to an unhealthy degree.I ate my first (and only, I swear) pot brownie with her, I have wept in front of her. I have been my best in front of her. We have held hands through so much that life has tossed our way.

Yes, maybe finding her meant I had to stare at a plethora of e-mailed penises, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat. Girlfriend's are the sisters in life that you choose. And I would choose her everyday.

On the way home we were talking about how I intended on taking my Twilight Edward barbie doll out of his package so he can go with us to the theater. "Can we put him between us, and each of us hold his little hand through the movie?" She asked.

I swear to God I looked at her, and was filled head to toe with ridiculous love. "Yes we can." I replied. And then I hugged her. And hugged her. And whispered a fervent thanks for the woman that she is.

Which is kick ass. Obviously.