LITTLE MISS BLISS

During my 7 month stint in DC, I worked—mostly peripherally—with a woman named Kelley. She would walk into our offices for meetings about once a week, in her perfectly pressed outfits and her perfectly straight bright red hair, and intimidate the hell out of me. It didn't help that she worked in a finance capacity, bringing in millions of dollars in grants with the swift and efficient stroke of her pen. (Yes, I know she probably types her funding proposals on a laptop, but whatever. That doesn't sound as good.)

After a couple of months, not talking at all shifted to bantering over who got to eat the only chocolate croissant on the pastry tray at the meeting. Out of nowhere, it seemed, the caterer stopped including them and we found ourselves back at square one. Except somehow, I can't remember when or why, we started emailing each other.

Turns out, we have a ton in common, she's pretty hilarious, and she's a BAKER. (Why she couldn't bake her own chocolate croissants instead of eating all of mine, is beyond me.) Unfortunately, I left DC before we were able to solidify our relationship with some good old fashioned hanging out.

Then, yesterday, we once again found ourselves together in a meeting in DC. Immediately afterward, she asked if I had a minute to talk. Thinking she wanted to vent about work, I whisked her down to the building's cafeteria. Imagine my surprise when prim and proper Kelley let loose a barrage of profanity sprinkled with words like FLOWERS and MAKE UP and INVITE LIST and HAIR...

Wait a second, I thought. She wants to talk to me about her wedding plans? OMG, we're actually friends!

As she went on, I continued to think about how life never really ceases to amaze me. And that felt pretty good. Almost as good as my new friend trusting me with her secrets and frustrations about a day that can quickly spiral from wedded wonder into something bigger and badder than you could every imagine. Not Michael Jackson Bad, bad bad. 

We chatted for much less time than I would have wanted and certainly less than the topic warranted, but by the end of it I knew it wouldn't be the last time we spoke. And it wouldn't matter if we were in the same place. Hopefully, in some small way, I'll be able to make a difference in her big day (or at the very least help her get to and through it.) And hopefully, we'll be able to share much more than chocolate croissants in the future.

It's looking like 2012 might just turn out to be the year of friendships. And that sounds pretty good to me.