The Art of Tying Knots

With ten days until this little birdie spreads her wings and flies out of the nest, I’m tying up loose ends. Maybe if I had been a Boy Scout I would be better at tying knots, but its proving to be a bit harder than I anticipated.

The most time consuming knot on my to-do list is packing. For the past six years I've had a room to myself with lots of storage space that I quickly filled with things I never bothered to throw away. So now my once large room is feeling smaller by the second as I fill it with giant bags of trash and boxes of stuff that I'm absolutely sure I can't live without (like a water purification system and a stainless steel water bottle, for the environment). I’ve got a box of this, a box of that and a room mate that I have to share a closet and a dresser with, who hopefully lives as simply as a monk.

While packing is important, as well as taking and framing pictures of my dogs for Brother, drinking then nursing a hangover, and making my own granola (my latest culinary project), it isn’t the most important thing. I should be figuring out how I’m going to say good-bye to my friends, mainly Coco and Twin, which hasn’t received a moment of thought (as opposed to my granola recipe, which I’ve decided will definitely include wheat germ).

I have problems with open displays of emotion and co-dependence, which tend to make heartfelt good-byes, like the ones looming on the horizon, difficult and uncomfortable. Despite the complete absence of hugs in our friendship we really are best friends, and I really will miss them. I’ll probably miss them more than they realize, because I am by far the least emotional of the bunch. I am also the one going the furthest away. And I’m pretty horrible at keeping in touch. Is there any thing else we can add to the list of reasons why this might be the end of our friendship? Nothing? I’m sure there’s more.

As strange as it is for me to say this (and show such co-

dependence), I don’t know what I’ll do without them or if I’ll ever have another friend as good as them. Sure, we’ve had our disagreements and there are things about them that annoy the hell out of me, but they’re my girls. They’ve cleaned up my puke, pulled me away from guys at parties, helped me pick out underwear, occasionally worked out with me, and put up with my inability to delegate in the kitchen. I love Coco and Twin (and I’m even getting a tad misty-eyed writing this).

Okay, that’s enough emotion for one day. I think I’ll go pack some more.