Of Pot Roast, Laughter and Lanpher

I've noticed that something about true friendship makes me glow like a lightbulb. The past week and a half has been as restorative as an extended aromatherapy massage on the beach in Zanzibar.

Or an exquisitely marinated pot roast. Like the one my Uber BFF Lanpher made last night, in her cozy apartment with dual views of the Empire State Building and the Hudson River. In fact, almost exactly a year ago, Lanpher was sitting in that apartment when she saw US Airways Flight 1549 go floating past. This January, more airline drama occurred in the form of moi, refugee from the Craptastic Christmas Aircraft Crisis.

I've tried to explain in past posts why Lanpher is such a dear friend. It boils down to this...her energy is like a balm for the soul. When you make her laugh, you know you've really accomplished something, because she's an expert at making you snort liquids out of your nose at a moment's notice.

She's just full of light. She's full of wisdom. She's genuine. And we've noticed that over the years, it usually only takes about 90 minutes of conversation for me to start bawling like a newborn baby, because with Lanpher, I'm able to reveal how I really feel, and to admit that sometimes, the 7 year old girl inside doesn't feel like being poised, articulate and confident, and she just needs to be heard and hugged. Well, this year marked a critical milestone....I made Lanpher cry first! Don't worry, I was appropriately comforting, but we've been friends so long, she didn't mind when I also performed what amounted to a version of an NFL End Zone Dance to mark the occasion. While wiping away tears, Lanpher muttered something like, "Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn every now and then." Now, THAT'S true friendship!

The only thing more certain than Death or Taxes is that an evening with Lanpher will revive your spirit and reconnect you with your core. I think you can see it in both of our faces up above. It was cold as a witch's refrigerator outside today, yet we're both glowing brighter than the sun.

This is what I miss in Nairobi, but this is what I know is always there for me when I come back. It keeps me hangin' on.