Thelma Misses Louise

When I think of my college days at Washington State University, I think of vanilla freezes from The Daily Grind coffee shop and 2 am food deliveries from Nacho Man. I think of my study groups, my crappy apartment, hanging out with S, and my feisty black kitty (may she rest in peace). But mostly, I think of L.

I met L at the ice cream and cheese shop where we both worked. We bonded over hairnets and sneaking bites from the samples of Cougar Gold and Cougar Crunch ice cream. L was hilarious. She always had a funny story that could keep us all laughing. From picking up schizophrenic female hitchhikers to telling off strangers in bars, L and her roommate never shared a dull moment. Their stories were epic.

Hanging out with L was always so much fun. She and I shared the same flaws (procrastination, laziness and gluttony, to name a few) but made no apologies for them. She picked me up when I felt down and I did the same for her. She was one of those people I felt like I’d known my entire life, though I was only at WSU for two years.

One summer, L and I took one hell of a road trip. We both loved the Dixie Chicks (shut up, it was 2003) and when we discovered the nearest show was sold out, I instantly bought tickets to their show in Oakland, California. Sure, it was 900 miles away and would require a two or three day drive just to get there, but I was the definition of “young and dumb.” L eagerly agreed to be my date for the show and the trip was on.

That road trip turned out to be one of the best either of us had ever taken. We never ran out of things to talk about. We were both broke, but somehow we managed to have an amazing time on very little money. We joked that, if we ran out, we’d just find a strip club and work for gas money (no, that never ended up happening). We enjoyed San Francisco for a few days before heading to Reno since neither of us had ever been. We tested our boundaries, tried new things and learned a lot about ourselves. It was the definition of “college road trip” with an extra side of awesome. We were a modern day Thelma and Louise, minus the suicide.

Even after our college days ended, L and I kept in touch pretty well for two people who are bad at keeping in touch. She moved back to her hometown and fell in love. Mr. W and I got married in 2005. She got married the following year. Even though we were college buddies, I never thought of our friendship as a phase. While I knew we’d never be “BFFs” (we both already had those) I assumed we’d always be friends because we never had a reason not to be. Some friendships do go through phases, but after sharing a “salad” with a stranger on the busy streets of San Francisco, you pretty much bond for life.

But, about three years ago, we did lose touch. It wasn’t either of our faults. I couldn’t make her wedding, which I regret to this day. We still talked every few weeks, and then suddenly, we didn’t. We went too long without calling (months) and the next time I called, her number had changed. I know she didn’t do it to get rid of me. L is like me. We don’t send out those “this is my new number” texts. We change our numbers and then say, “Shit. I wonder who doesn’t have my number now?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, but lately I’ve really been missing L a lot. I miss talking to her. I wonder how her marriage is going and if she has a baby yet. I wonder where she works. I wonder how all her family drama worked out. I would love to catch up, but L doesn’t have Facebook or MySpace. According to the internet, she doesn’t exist. The closest thing I’ve found (I did one Google search. I’m not a stalker. Promise!) is a mention of her in a blog post from someone she went to high school with.

L is from a small town. I suppose it wouldn’t be that hard to track her down if I really tried. But I wonder, has it been too long? Would it be weird? Am I a part of her past that she wants to forget for some reason, or would she be happy to hear from me? With Facebook, someone you knew a decade ago can pop back into your life easily. But there’s no real pressure to talk to them. I have many Facebook buddies from high school I haven’t talked to in nine years and haven’t bothered to message because, well, we weren’t close then, what would I say now?

But this is real life. Thus would involve me finding a phone number, address or, at the very least, an email address. This would be me contacting her directly and engaging in real conversation. I really don’t think she’d want to avoid me, but if she did, I wouldn’t want her to feel trapped. She was just such a big part of my early twenties, I would love for her to be a part of my grown up life or, at the very least, someone I occasionally speak to.

Today I heard her favorite song on the radio (and one of the anthems of our road trip) UB40’s “The Way You Do the Things You Do” and thought of her again. I’m so tempted to look her up. But will I seem crazy? Has too much time passed? Should I let it go or should I see if, after all these years, she still needs a friend?