One of my best friends moved, all by herself, to Columbus last month. Her mother died a year ago, and her boyfriend had recently finalized their breakup and decided to get engaged to another girl. I thought she moved because she was tired of the bad memories. That was only part of the reason. It was mainly because of what I said.

Oh, great, what did I say now? Things that I said always come back to me, after I have forgotten all about them. This time it wasn't anything bad (phew!), it was the conversation I had with (or at) her the day after I realized that I couldn't even make myself believe in God. It clicked with her immediately, and she dropped her faith like yesterday's underwear. The impression she was left with was that she could/should do what makes her happy and that there was no point in waiting for god to turn her life around for her. She said that all she had been doing was waiting and hoping, and she was terribly unhappy. It took her a while to do something about it, but last month she packed up and left in active search of a new life.

Well, good for her. She shouldn't have left me. Nah, it isn't that bad. We rarely got together, and we talk more on the phone now then we ever did. I'm happy for her, and I love her stories. Last week, she was walking her trash to the dumpster and when she turned around to check out a hot guy who was grilling on his patio, she smacked into the plastic fencing, fell down, knocked the fence down which knocked his grill down, and spilled garbage everywhere. When she recovered from that, she found a nice table in the dumpster and decided to do some garbage-picking. Another attractive guy saw her and said, "Oh, If I had known someone would want that, I would have left it next to the dumpster instead!" She was terribly embarrassed, even more so when she ran into her the next day and he addressed her as "Dumpster Girl". I love my friend.