At the end of August in 1998, I had just moved into my new dorm room at college. I was away from home, away from friends, and pretty darn scared of what the year was going to bring. Classes were starting the next day, and I set out to find the rooms I'd be sitting in. While waiting for the elevators, I met one of the girls who lived a few doors down from me. She introduced herself as Sarah, and we walked to the Quad together. I found out it was her 18th birthday, and I wished her a happy birthday. Later that afternoon, she brought me a piece of cake her dad had sent.
I became good friends with Sarah. She was cool to go to frat parties with because she didn't get all hoochified. We were very alike. Neither of us got drunk every weekend, we were serious about school, but we liked to have fun. We watched a lot of movies, found our way to the mall on the city buses, and had an all-around good time freshman year (including freaky trips to Chicago! Eeep!).
Sophomore year, Sarah and I became roommates. We had a kick-ass room. We joined Volunteer Illini Friendship together. I left Sarah (and the kick-ass room) second semester, but we definitely kept in touch.
Junior year, Sarah and I (and Katy, for a bit) got an apartment together. It was another kick-ass place, once the ketchup was cleaned from the floor and the windows were de-blackened. It had "character." And it was our little home. That year holds a lot of memories for me.
Senior year, Sarah and I lived together once again, this time with Shelley and Aarti. LOTS of memories were made in our 711 apartment. Lots and lots. It was definitely my favorite year spent in Champaign.
We must have asked Sarah after every "big" event if Brad had proposed. She would roll her eyes and laugh and say no. On Valentine's Day, we didn't ask. We thought it was too obvious, and she must have been sick of us teasing her. She stood in my room and told us about her evening for a half-hour before she said "And there's something else," and held out her hand. The one time we hadn't asked her!
Yesterday, Sarah got married. She's the first of my friends, my real, honest-to-goodness friends, to do so. She's the first person I met when we were both teenagers (and still keep in touch with today) to have a husband. She's been so much a part of my life for the last five years, and it's weird to think that now, she's married. Of course, she and Brad couldn't be more perfect for each other and I couldn't be happier for the both of them.
The wedding was beautiful. It was in a tiny little church in Danville. Aarti and I did readings (and I got through Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 without stumbling over "Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks / within his bending sickle's compass come." Whew! The ceremony went flawlessly.
Afterwards, the reception was at the state park. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that May 31st is supposed to be warm. There were gale-force winds (which made the little lake look more like the ocean... all choppy and grey) and it couldn't have been much warmer than 5 degrees. In my sleeveless shirt and skirt I'd picked out for the wedding, all I can say is that I was freezing. It was almost painfully cold.
Despite the frigid temperatures, the reception was a lot of fun. The DJ could have started the dancing (read: the warming-up process) a little sooner, but once it all got going, it was a ball. A friend of Sarah's had brought back some pajama pants (moons and stars!), which I wore under my skirt for a while. It was sex-ay, but it worked. Everything (other than the weather, which did turn sunny after a while) was perfect.
It's weird. I lived with Sarah for four years, and now she's going to live with Brad. It was a long time coming, and I don't think it was a surprise to a single soul. It's very cool, actually. I can't believe Sarah's married!