Kate

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  Not everyone is as fortunate as I to have Kate as a best friend.  A friendship like ours is unique, to say the least.  We've been friends for as long as I can remember (ok, since Junior High, at least).  Unlike most catty girl/girl friendships, Kate and I have never fought.  Not even a squabble.  We have always respected each other's difference of opinion.  In fact, I'm pretty sure this is what keeps us balanced.  Although time and distance (add shielding to that, and you have the trifecta for protecting yourself in the event of a radiological disaster-you're welcome) have prevented us from seeing each other face to face as often as we'd like, our friendship has only grown stronger. 

Kate and I were certainly not the most popular girls in junior high.  Just like every other kid we went to school with and every kid who has passed through the doors of Meadville Area Junior/Senior High since, we were simply smelly, gross teenagers.  Freshman year was when we really became inseparable.  This was also the time grunge and Beavis and Butt-head were popular.  We had a lot of classes together, so naturally, we talked through them all.  When one would get detention for talking, the other one would go to detention too, not because we had to, but because we were bored. 

Kate's family was, um, eclectic.  Her kitchen cabinets were covered in pictures of Bill Clinton and Joan Baez.  There was an italian dressing bottle filled with holy water in the fridge, and gargoyles stared down at you from pretty much every corner in the house.  Kate and her sisters pretty much did as they pleased. 

This, by no means, is a cut on Kate's mom. As a single mother, she busted her ass to make sure the kids had everything they needed.  "Burke" is a beautiful, amazing, intelligent woman, whose heart and soul is devoted to improve the lives of those around her.  I remember Kate coming over to my house, sitting on the couch, saying, "I miss this."  My dad, confused by her statement, asked her nicely what the hell she was talking about.  She replied, "my mom gave away all our furniture to a family who needed it at the church."  Kate came home from school one day, and thought they had been robbed.  She wasn't bull shitting.  Burke donated it ALL.  I'm pretty sure to this day, there's still no furniture in that house. 

Kate has no known enemies...well, maybe a few.  Norman, an over-weight uh, not-so-intelligent (okay, he was in special classes) student continually harassed Kate.  She and Norman had a hate-hate relationship that was deeply seeded from early years.  Kate weighed maybe 80 pounds, soaking wet.  Norman weighed about 280, bone dry (but very greasy).    Norman was one mean dummy.  While riding her bike home from school, she told Norman to get away from her.  She made the mistake of throwing a snowball at him, to no avail (her arms were like twigs).  Norman turned into an angry gorilla, packed a snowball the diameter of a volleyball with the hardness of a baseball, and with all his retard strength, wailed it.  Kate flew off her bike like a gladiator impaled in a jousting match (did that shit really happen?).  Unlike the panty-waist crybabies of today, we didn't believe in wearing helmets. She rolled about 20 feet, into a snow drift. Kate's knees were torn up, her head bleeding.  She jumped on her bike and ran away.  She found a different route home after that.  She called me as soon as she got home (yeah, it was long before cell phones),  "That mother fucker is going down!", she said through her tears. I wonder where old Norman is today.  He could probably still kick our asses.  

Kate and I used to go to restaurants, request a booth, then sit next to each other.  Nobody else was with us.

We went to the rest stop in Edinboro (25 miles from our house) and took a bunch of pictures with the rest area attendant, holding up brochures.  We told her we were traveling the US, documenting all the rest area attendants we met along the way. 

One night in the dead of winter, we decided to go throw snowballs at Kate's neighbors's house.  Our intention was to locate the bedroom window of the boy I liked, and try to get his attention (I was a loser and he hated me).  We dressed in all black, including ski masks, and headed out.  We were dressed in all black. In four feet of pure, white snow.  Enough said. 

There are so many more stories.  Stories I can't tell on here.  We'd probably be thrown in jail.  That's okay.  You can find the whole story in our book.  It'll be coming to a bookstore near you soon.