Missy: aka Schwartz.

Missy went to Penn State as well but I didn’t meet her until I moved to Washington, D.C. It was a good thing I did, too because it made my stay there a lot more enjoyable. Plus, I made a friend for life. Missy, too, was the catalyst for my making this post. Last night, when I was sitting there in Union Pool watching her interact with Gerry and Toby, there wasn’t any place I’d rather be.

Missy has been there for me so many times over the past 7 years, I get embarrassed knowing that I probably could live two lifetimes and still never figure out a way to pay her back for it all. The poor girl could have drowned beneath all my tears. She has helped me through the absolute roughest times of my life thus far. And for that, I am grateful beyond words.

Missy is my polar opposite. She’s kind of like one of those spices you might add to a not so pleasant dish when it’s served alone. But when a particular element is added, a plethora of other flavors suddenly come to life. It’s like that. Without her, my true intentions might go unnoticed.

Missy likes numbers and facts. I grab onto ideas that don’t have answers. Missy likes a plan (Though, she has changed a bit over the years, leaning to more whimsical movements.) I fly the seat of my pants, almost to a fault.

I can sit with Missy for hours on end writing down the top 100 best songs to break-up to. We have spent hours discussing 30 SECOND scenes in movies. We have talked to wee hours of the night and have not realized it until the sun came up again. And in spite of my begging it not to, it arrives and I know that soon I will have to go home again. (I always hated that moment. Damn sun.)

If I could ever come anywhere near Missy’s elegance and grace I might then understand what it feels like to succeed.

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