Love it.

Dear Readers, I have been called out. Love it.

Yes, I have been back from Vegas for awhile, and YES, I am a slacker. The latter has always been and will remain quite true.

Speaking of Vegas, it was excellent fun, though I learned that while only 23, I am still not 19 anymore. It is no longer an option for me to start drinking at noon and continue doing so until 3am without wanting to pass out and/or die. At least not for three days straight.

Speaking of being 19...my best "adulthood" (that is, met after the age of 18--I have no illusions of actually being an adult now) friend is moving to China. In a week. For a year. Last time she skipped the country, it was only for 4 months, and I got to visit her. This time, I don't know. Funds and schedules are not in my favor. It is entirely possible I won't see my partner in crime for 12 whole months, and it makes me very sad. She knows all of my secrets--good, bad, ugly. She knows all of my former men--good, bad, ugly. When The Latest and I broke up the first time, I drove straight to her house, but only after I called her, and did nothing but sob into the phone for 10 minutes. And she is one of the few people in the world, besides my family and a select few others, who I can laugh about everything and nothing with, until I can't breathe.

And it makes me sad, and a little scared. The Man says sometimes life just pulls people apart. Do I think this will happen with us? Nah. Definitely not. But I will miss her.

God, that was depressing. Sorry. Good news is, between now and next Thursday, when I drop her ass off at the airport and cry for an hour, we have several fabulous, alcohol-abusing events planned. I bet I don't tell her (or anyone) enough, but how lucky am I? To have these people in my life who mean so much to me that their absence throws me into panic-attack mode? And, as Carrie Bradshaw put it, wise and all-knowing as she is, the ones we love are always in our hearts. And, if we are very lucky, only a plane ride away.