Hey, guys, my friend Brandy is coming to town today.
Brandy. Mandy. Together again. I’m not sure Nashville is ready for the awesome that’s about to happen (that is, if, of course, I don’t keel over from exhaustion).
Here’s the deal about Brandy: we met years ago when we were both working in the communications department at the company I still work for. We had both been interns previously (and separately and had not really met each other) and had been hired as temporary/part-time staffers because of the recent departure of several key employees in an already small department. Brandy and I met and we pretty much discovered we were a lot alike. She nurtured my fledgling love for Andrew Peterson’s music; I’m not sure I added anything to her life, other than sparkling conversation and helping to coin the word “divo” to describe male divas. We prowled the halls searching for stories of the company newletter and rankled at being called interns when clearly we were not. We wrapped empty boxes for props for a Christmas production, stood on the steps of the Ryman stage and felt like big dorks, and laughed. A lot.
When our temporary/part-time jobs came to a sudden halt, life threw some wrenches into our friendship. Brandy moved to Missouri to work at a college, then later moved to Colorado. I stayed here. The weird part is that we have this sort of friendship that whenever we see each other again, we seem to pick up where we left off. Which just means more absurdity is going to happen. We will have lunch in bus stations. We will pose like subjects in the art at the art museum. We will laugh, listen to music, and talk.
Brandy knows a lot about me. My doubts and fears and struggles. The way my faith seems fragile sometimes. How stubborn I can be. And she still likes me. There’s something to be said for having that sort of friend. Plus, she makes me laugh. A lot.
So, Brandy’s coming for the weekend, y’all. It’s going to be a whirlwind of activity and a conference, but we’ll get to hang out. I just hope she doesn’t mind the pile of stuff for Goodwill I’ve yet to move out of the guest room where she’ll be staying. Hmm. Maybe I’ll try to get to that after work.
You wouldn’t want your house guest to think you’re a slob.