I'm not good at good-byes. I'm even worse at Skyping.

I suspect that most people who know me would say I am very social.

Outgoing.

Friendly.

That's true.

But what's also true is that I have a very select group of people who I consider "close."

In my early 20's I remember saying I had a List Of My Favorite People In The World.

Now that I'm in my 40's, I don't go around announcing that so much anymore (instead, apparently, I just write about it on a public forum), but it's still true.

I can count those people on one hand. It's a very elite group of people, if I do say so myself.

And before you all go and think that I'm boasting here because they are so lucky to be considered one of my elites, let me go on record, that what I'm actually boasting about is how lucky I am to have them on My List. (You all know who you are.)

And now, one of those Very Elite People is leaving.

She is moving.

To France.

I am terrible at geography, but I know for a fact that that's really fucking far.

And I am at a complete loss.

I knew it was coming. In actuality, I've suspected it for years. There are people that you just know are not going to remain in one place for too long. I've had her in my life for nearly a decade. I'm shocked it's taken her this long to get to this point in her life, really. She's just not a Miami-kinda-girl. She's sorta like a hummingbird. She flits and flutters with a dizzying display of colors and movement. She's a perpetual blur.

And yes, I know. The world is small these days. There is texting and Skyping and apps that I have no clue about that I will most certainly have to learn how to use and we will most definitely absolutely without a doubt stay in touch and she will come back and forth for work and maybe even we will all go up to visit her on a fabulous South of France holiday worthy of being turned into a Woodie Allen-like comedy starring Drew Barrymore as me and Maggie Gyllenhaal as her and it will be just the same.

But it won't.

And so.

Here I am, with one my Elite Favorite People In The Whole World leaving and I am so damn happy for her and so damn sad for me that I don't know which one hurts more.

And so.

When I don't know what to do and I don't know how to cope, there is only one thing I can do, and that is write. (How ironic, considering my last post, no?) 

I got home tonight from her teeny studio apartment with the purple settee and the loose-leaf tea canisters and the professional photo equipment, after a take-out dinner of her favorite Indian food and a bottle of Trader Joe's red wine, weighed down by the garbage bags filled with her hand-me-down clothes and shoes. "I'm purging at least 50% of my closet before I move!" she declared. "And I want you to have first dibs because you'll appreciate it the most!" I explained to my boys (mostly my Ben, the 9-year-old-going-on-40) why my eyes were puffy. They, who love her too, were not happy either. "Right now, I'm hating Europe," Ben choked. I started to go through the clothes, wipe down the brown leather boots I had coveted for almost as long as I'd known her, tried one on, slipped it off, left it on the kitchen floor, came to the sofa, opened the laptop and here I am.

My words are really all I can give

to this friend who has taught me that...

...galoshes are perfectly acceptable with a summer dress to go window shopping at an indoor mall.

...I "must exploit" my eyelashes.

...in a pinch, hair works just as well as floss.

...if you really need a mixer for your flask of vodka while in the middle of downtown Miami during Art Basel, you can probably get some free coke (and a highball glass!) if you walk down an alley and smile at a caterer.

...I look much better in color.

...I take too many things way too seriously.

...Photoshop is not a myth.

...it's perfectly awesome to be myself.

...I am not the only person in the world who can have an intensely serious conversation about the meaning of my stiletto collection.

...there is no shame in rocking back and forth and sobbing uncontrollably as long as you are doing it with someone you trust.

...consignment shops really are the single best place to shop for true treasures.

...reading about Nietzsche is not that bad.

...reading about a post-apocalyptic road is. 

...green shimmery eye shadow can, in fact, be worn to work in the middle of the day.

...there are other people who ponder and wonder and fret and analyze and dream just as much as I do.

...I am not the only girl who thinks that an adventure race is the perfect venue for some shimmery body lotion.

...every Thelma needs a Louise, but every Louise needs a Thelma.

To you, my friend, I want to go on record as saying you made me a better Me. I am most certainly a cooler, stronger, more interesting and authentic version of myself because of you.

Thanks for the boots...they'll look hot with my new farmer's market hippie chic outfit. In fact, it may have to go on my Elite List of Favorite Outfits in the World.

You should be honored.

My lists are almost as coveted as your boots.