For whatever reason, and it’s probably a stupid reason, I hate talking on the phone. It makes me anxious and panicky. Bad things happen when someone calls me. It’s always bad news or I’m always in trouble. So phone calls are for emergencies only. Like if you’re in a restaurant and you’re not sure if you’ll like green curry so you call your Indian friend to ask a question about Thai food. Ahem. Desiree.
Since I hate talking on the phone, I text all the time, which makes me grateful for the unlimited texting plan my dad bought when I was fourteen and texting was really starting to pick up. Which means most of the conversations I have are saved forever (or thirty days) on my phone, and some of them are hilarious.
For example, Desiree and I were discussing our plans for actual adulthood, as well as her upcoming wedding.
Me: Don’t worry, I’ll come save you [when you get taken hostage by terrorists]*
Desiree: Heck you better be with me to start with!
Me: Fiiiine, but who’s gonna rescue us when we inevitably run our mouths?
Desiree: Uhhh…J’s trying to get into flight school, maybe in a pinch he’ll get us?
Me: Better put that in your vows, “In case of kidnapping, I’ll come get you.”
Desiree: “As a side note, if I choose to go help the orphans you have to swear you’ll come save me from the people I piss off.”
Me: “Forsake all others and save me from terrorists.”
Boom. Vows written.You’re welcome.
I am a painfully shy and awkward person, and Desiree is the exact opposite, and somehow by sitting next to each other in Arabic class and living down the hall and studying together, she’s become one of my best friends in the world. When something inevitably goes wrong in my life and everyone else is telling me it’s not that bad, Desiree will agree with me that it is the worst thing ever, and that the person/entity behind it needs to be disappeared. She humors my crazy notions about somehow living abroad and traveling to cool places, and will sift through the myriad of dissertation-length emails I send her in which I’m basically talking to myself about planning out my life. She understands my compulsive need to plan things out, even if the thing being planned out is the hostile takeover of a small island nation. And I would totally rescue her from terrorists.**
*Not “if,” “when.”
**Just kidding. I’d be a hostage with her and our whiny chattering would make them set us free just for some goddamn peace and quiet.