Emily Suzanne Yancer

Me: I feel like blogging, but I don't have anything to blog about.
Em: Blog about how wonderful I am and how much you love me.
Me: Okay.

(I proceeded to wonder whether Ben would mind if I stole a picture of Emily from his computer. Computers are personal places. I decided to be careful and considerate, but to steal away. And Em said that there were pictures of her at Ben's graduation on here, ones she herself has as well. So I did it. Don't be mad, Ben. If I'm going to blog about someone's wonderful-ness, I at least need a picture for illustration.)

Meet Emily. Many of you know her. I've blogged about her before. We're good friends. She's one of the main reasons I came to Union. But when I got here, she wasn't here. She up and left us for the cold, wintery land of Massachusetts. I only forgive her because she was following her dreams, and because we stayed in really good contact. She had a hard year, and I'd just come out of a hard year, so we could understand one another.But she's back now, and it's a good thing, too, because if she hadn't come back, I'd probably have to hunt her down and kill her.

She's pretty much the best thing that's happened to me this year. We're together a lot more than we're each with anyone else. She drives me everywhere, all the time. And she gets me. I like that. The coolest thing is that lately, we don't even have to finish sentences. We know what the other's about to say a lot of the time. That's pretty fun.

Me: This is nice.
Em: What's nice?
Me: Sitting here with our computers blogging and listening to music.
Em: I'm not blogging.
Me: Well I'm blogging. And I'm blogging about you.
Em: You weren't actually supposed to blog about me, Katie!

Lots of times, we talk about boys. Tonight, we talked about how our moms both encourage us to do the same responsible things, like going to the gynecologist and getting our plane tickets home for Christmas before the prices go up. Must be a mom thing.

I swear, Em is the only reason I get through my PR Principles class. It's the only class I've never skipped, and that's because I know she'd yell at me if I did. Sometimes we get so stressed together that we daydream about running away from it all. We even agree on the destination: when life gets to be too much, we're going to Nashville, y'all. I don't know why we settled on Nashville, other than it sounds like a fun place to be and it's sunny there, which is my main criteria for anyplace to be deemed good.

Right now she's sticking her feet in my face. She's wont to do that every so often.

Sometimes we "dance" to Justin Timberlake's "SexyBack." It's atrocious. We both have Adventist booties. In other words, our hips are fused to our rib cages and don't work for dancing. But we're practicing.

One of my favorite things to do is listen to Emily sing with Ben. Tonight they did special music for V2, and I think I enjoyed it more than the whole of Andrew Peterson's concert last night.

We tease her about being proper, but sometimes I tease her about it because I'm a little jealous. She's feminine and beautiful and queenly. She scolds me for burping out loud. For this reason, my mother would like her. She's Yancery, which I tell her when she's being stylish and creative and gracious (these things seem to run in her family). Or when she's being a pill. That's Yancery too. In a good way.

I've gotten to know Em's mom lately, and I'm seeing where my friend has learned to be a confident, gracious, beautiful woman. But, even though I never knew him, I see her dad in her too, in her good-natured humor and generous spirit. And in her sweet teeth.

Emily's a beautiful girl. I don't think she knows it, but it's true. She's one of those people who loves people with her whole self. She'd walk to the moon and back for someone she loves. That's part of why I think she's even more beautiful on the inside than she is on the outside (although she is a looker, gentlemen, and single to boot).

Love you, Em. Thanks for the hugs and the laughs and the boy talks and the rides and the thousands of other little things that make you one of my best friends. I don't know what I'd do without you.