Time for Spring.

I feel rude for not already having made a formal introduction.
This is my best gal pal in London, Spring. Or Springy Springstein, if you'd rather.
She's the greatest and we just have a...what's the word.....connection. Of course, when your friendship started out the way ours did, it would be impossible not to.

To tell this story I probably need to fill you in on some facts. Some quite personal facts. I hope it doesn't turn you off, but they are essential to our story.

1. I've had a very active digestive system my entire life. I'm talking very healthy.
2. It stops being so thriving the minute I leave home, whether it be for school, vacations, study abroad programs--you name it.
3. I once went a few weeks without so much of peep from it. Weeks.
4. Leaving home to live my life has become quite the complicated, uncomfortable problem, as you must now guess.
5. (Totally unrelated..) I didn't know any of the girls in the program. I knew a boy, Brenden, but that largely did not count. They aren't there for you to solve boy drama problems, introduce you to yummy penny candy and minstrels, talk about diets, and aren't nearly as pretty to look at--all of which Spring Springstein is.

So I arrived in London having already been abroad in the Netherlands for a week. My digestive buddy had been hiding even before that week, almost pouting that I was getting ready to leave home again for a place much farther away. I had confided to my mom in an email about my troubles. She was very sympathetic and worried about my dilemma. She didn't want me to look big in my pictures, you see, so she prescribed me a long list of laxatives.

I had told my mom I would skype with her about all my adventures in the Netherlands in detail the minute I landed and settled in London. It was six o'clock at night and I found someone that said she'd accompany me to the McDonalds, as the internet connection in our house wasn't so great. We walked down the street and settled in a booth, admiring the classiness the Europeans add to this American chain with their silk blouses and bow-ties, not to mention the daisy vases at every table. It was impressive.

I signed online and was a little bummed that I didn't think to bring my earphones because I realized it was REALLY loud in there. My mom had to shout so I could hear her. She's such a good communicator. We finish the conversation of my Dutch escapades and then she shouts "Have you been able to P-O-O-P yet?" just as the entire restaurant goes quiet, as if they all secretly had a pact to take a bite of their Big Macs at the same time and embarrass me to the absolute extreme in front of my new, prospective friend. I wanted to die. I looked at Spring to see if by some miracle she hadn't heard. She's looking at her feet trying to stifle laughter.

We've pretty much been the best, most divinely bonded friends ever since.

And I adore her.





Plus she looks like she could be in Twilight.