Seven years ago I met this girl who we'll call The Patton. She lived down the hall in Zink and I often found myself sleeping on her couch because walking two doors down to my own dorm room was just too far. She's the sort of friend who you can have the most ridiculous fight with and not talk to for months (it's happened, folks.) and one day she'll show up with wine and her copy of Breakfast at Tiffanys and things are all better. (For clarification, this has gone both ways.)
I grew up with all boy cousins and there's a nine year age gap between my next sibling so she's sort of like my well, she's just awesome.
If you haven't been to Stillwater on gameday there's something I should tell you, there is zero reception. I'm aware of turning of 3G on your phone, but even then - sketchy.
I knew The Patton would be in Stillwater, but finding her was going to be tricky. See, I forgot to ask where she'd be. Whoops.
Saturday's perfect day had something truly magical up its sleeve. From three tailgates away - I spotted her.
And, I ran.
Hindsight - that was weird.
Dang. I missed my soulmate.
Today is her birthday.
Also, sadly the only place she's The Patton is in my contacts. She's married now so really, she's The Pearce. Just not as catchy, Stace.
Happy birthday, dude. Hope it's awesome. Consider this post a placeholder for a day of drinking wine and watching The Golden Girls. Actually, we'll still do that.