Kansas City was just the urban-hip backdrop. Westport and the Plaza, Overland Park and the condominium community: these were just the sets that rolled on around us. The real fun was the Liz, Sarah, and Annie.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is vent to people who understand. Girls who know what's going on and see things the same way you do. Girls you can get real with: about boyfriends, about your deepest worries, about the pain of divorce. About what's going on deep inside, and where God fits in with that. Girls who also see the beauty of petty theft (i.e. Support Your Troops magnets off of cars), even when we know it is wrong. Girls who have the same shopping habits. Girls who will pump up the volume, roll down the windows, and challenge the upper class calm that supernaturally keeps everything clean and glamorous in the middle of the midwest. Girls who aren't tacked down by a schedule, but will hookah for the first time with emo-pumks, karaoke on a whim, go to IHOP and pray with strangers for a random hour on a Saturday night. Girls who make and eat potatoe pizza (the best pizza I've ever had). Girls who can sit barebutt in front of her friends, and girls who let other girls sit barebutt on their furniture! Girls who can leave their pastrami and nasty shoes in the car and girls who will sniff it up anyway. Girls who will share the burden. Girls who will share the tears. Girls who will give sound advice. Girls who can take criticism. Girls who will lighten the load.
Kansas City was nice, too.
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