To My Best Friends I Never Expected

To My Best Friends I Never Expected

Every Brunette Needs Blonde (In A Good Way)
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They all say that you meet your life long friends in college. I expected them to be my roommates, sorority sisters, and even classmates. I didn't expect t find my best friend or a sister who would be there to the best and worst parts of my life.

I was just at a frat party after homecoming. I was just chilling on the couch while the guys were chugging down beers. A friend of mine was over and she brought a friend from her english class and that was when we met. We realized we lived on opposite sides of our dorm building and actually had something in common. We kept bumping into each other and figured we should hang out. That was the start of our crazy and pretty amazing friendship.

We've gone on road trips, birthday dinners, Halloween shenanigans, concert adventures and that was only from this semester. Every time we're together, our day turns into an adventure. We've been there through the best and the worst of times. Whenever I would want to rip my hair out over a class or she would be stressing over a guy, one of us would be there to take the other to Cookout or have a Peace Tea when to cheer her up because we're each other's person.

We walk into each other and we're carrying the same drink in our Nikes. We listen to the same music while we study together and finish each other's sentences. We have our own little code words for stuff we only remember and don't want the people next to us to know about.

So this for my best friend. The Bad to My Boujie. The Meredith Grey to my Christina Yang. The rebellious Rachel to my neat freak Monica self. I can name everything great friendship in the book but they are only half as great as we are.


Cover Image Credit: http://www.teenvogue.com/gallery/gossip-girl-friendship-gifs

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I Blame My Dad For My High Expectations

Dad, it's all your fault.
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I always tell my dad that no matter who I date, he's always my number one guy. Sometimes I say it as more of a routine thing. However, the meaning behind it is all too real. For as long as I can remember my dad has been my one true love, and it's going to be hard to find someone who can top him.

My dad loves me when I am difficult. He knows how to keep the perfect distance on the days when I'm in a mood, how to hold me on the days that are tough, and how to stand by me on the days that are good.

He listens to me rant for hours over people, my days at school, or the episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' I watched that night and never once loses interest.

He picks on me about my hair, outfit, shoes, and everything else after spending hours to get ready only to end by telling me, “You look good." And I know he means it.

He holds the door for me, carries my bags for me, and always buys my food. He goes out of his way to make me smile when he sees that I'm upset. He calls me randomly during the day to see how I'm doing and how my day is going and drops everything to answer the phone when I call.

When it comes to other people, my dad has a heart of gold. He will do anything for anyone, even his worst enemy. He will smile at strangers and compliment people he barely knows. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, even if it means going way out of his way, and he will always put himself last.

My dad also knows when to give tough love. He knows how to make me respect him without having to ask for it or enforce it. He knows how to make me want to be a better person just to make him proud. He has molded me into who I am today without ever pushing me too hard. He knew the exact times I needed to be reminded who I was.

Dad, you have my respect, trust, but most of all my heart. You have impacted my life most of all, and for that, I can never repay you. Without you, I wouldn't know what I to look for when I finally begin to search for who I want to spend the rest of my life with, but it might take some time to find someone who measures up to you.

To my future husband, I'm sorry. You have some huge shoes to fill, and most of all, I hope you can cook.

Cover Image Credit: Logan Photography

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?

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Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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