And we're taking it very seriously.
I must confess, the above picture is not from yesterday. It's from exactly 366 days ago, when she celebrated her last birthday, here in the little slice of wilderness we hail from. Charming, no? Basically, that picture is our friendship summed up in a single flash. This is us, moments later attempting to take a non-silly picture. She translated "non-silly," as "seductive." I translated it into "boring." Thus, we balance each other out.
I wish I could properly sum Arletta up for you in a blogpost, but that is impossible to do. Mostly, because there is no "summing," Arletta up. She isn't one thing - she's a thousand and one things. She is the loudest laugh in the room, and generally the funniest joke. She's a bellydancer and choreographer. For all my classical training, I don't think I'll ever be able to understand just how to make my body m o v e the way her's does.
She's a singer: anything the average person says outloud, she sings. Even if it's a list of things she's got to do that day.
She's a hopeless romantic, which rather nicely brightened my vaguely I-don't-give-a-crap-about-the-male-species attitude through HS.
Arletta is the kind of girl who chases her dream, chased it all the way to India for a semester abroad. Which makes perfect sense, since she is after all a tigress. . .
She is this poem: improbable, beautiful, and afraid of nothing.
She is my best friend in the world.