You guys know Jamie.
My little peanut/Ray Charles/running buddy.
She was the first friend I made in Virginia Beach other than girls from work.
She was the one who I met through blogging, yet we are from rival high schools in New Jersey and played against each other on the same field hockey field.
She was my gym buddy before I quit the gym.
She’s the one who will come over for wine and an ab workout. Our minds work the same way.
And she’s the one I went running with last week, candy corn in our matching Lulu speed shorts (we’re so cool).
And she’s the girl who admitted as we approached mile 4 that T. Swift’s new jam was rocking her world. To which I said, “MEEEEE TOOOOO” and promptly played it from my iPhone.
And as we ran, we jammed. With no conversation of ever seeing the music video, we did a synchronized jumped in the air, arms up, at the “WEEE-EEEE!” part of the chorus.
Mid-run. On the sidewalk.
This whole scenario might explain why none of my neighbors want to be my friend.