Friends and Fruit

First of all, can we take a moment to appreciate my lovely mother? Parents' weekend, an arbitrary weekend when, for some reason or other, it becomes fashionable to drive insane distances to visit your independent college students and subject them to mortification or at the very least boredom, was this past weekend. This tradition is boring and annoying unless your parents don't happen to come, in which case it leaves you feeling a little left out, despite the fact that your parents have very good reasons for being absent.

Well, this is how I felt this parents' weekend. My friends were out and about with their own parental units while I was lying around in my room, feeling "under the weather". Apart from feeling vaguely lonely, though, I was more than fine. I had time to do a great deal of homework, I pretended like I was a composer and wrote a song, and I got reacquainted with my good friend, Netflix. On Sunday, when parents' weekend was effectively over, I received a call from a strange number.

"Hi, this is Ben from Edible Arrangements."
My heart stops.
"....yes?"
"Is this Meghan Crawford?"
"...yes..."
"Can you come downstairs and let me into Landis, Ms. Crawford? I have a delivery for you."
"OKAY!"

I threw my phone down and ran out of the room, my room mate trailing behind me, begging to know what was going on. There he was: Ben. Standing there, holding a beautiful bouquet of fresh fruit, he became my new favorite person in the world. I signed for the fruit and opened the card.

"Sorry we couldn't be there in person for parents weekend. We love you! Mom and Appa."
Hmm, no apostrophe after "parents"... Oh, well, I have delicious fruit!

So that's how Parents' Weekend went from being an apathetic couple of days spent holed up in my room to a wonderful few hours of surprise and fruit.

That's my Mama. So thoughtful and sweet. She remembered that I am at college, also known as the land of only apples and bananas, and so she thought to send me some real fruit. I love her.

Do you know who else I love? My best friend. She's a couple hundred miles away, but it doesn't really matter. If I need to unnecessarily freak out about something, she knows exactly what to do, depending on the situation: if it's a guy, she freaks out along with me; if it's my family, she freaks out along with me; if it's school work, she freaks out along with me; in fact, it's safe to say that whatever it is, I can count on her for a sympathy freak out. Because, as everyone knows, it is always better to freak out in good company than alone.

She's pretty much the only person who understands that I need to be a spaz every once in a while in order to function properly on a regular basis. It probably doesn't hurt that she's a spaz, too. So we freak out together, and act manic depressive together, and drink tea together over Skype. This is the nature of our friendship. It is solid. It is strong. We are strong.

I miss her.