my friend callie

the other night as i lay in bed i was thinking about the games we play with people. when we can approach them, how to approach them, all the intricate contortions through which we put ourselves in order to (hopefully) not offend, and thereby preserve the relationship. and then i thought of my friend callie.
she most likely will never read this so i thought to wax eloquent on how privileged i am to know her.
callie is generous. she shares her chocolate, her clothes, her car, her bed (in a good way), her time, her money (which is not much, i know!), her food. and she never makes you feel that she wants something in return or that your request is a burden. i know that at any time i could go knock on her door--even wake her in the middle of the night!--and she would be quick to want to respond.
callie is direct, and values open communication. this not always being my strongsuit (i must admit i do use inference and hints quite a bit, but you would have to know me pretty well to know that!) it has taken some time for us to work past our different confrontation styles. but i know that she will tell me when something is bothering her. and she will not be content with lies or hypocrisy. this means you can know, really know, where you stand with her and not have to approach her as if a bomb were about to explode and for the life of you you can’t remember if it was the red or the green wire (and of course, in the back of your mind is the sneaky suspicion that you are color-blind!).
callie is a great cook, decent seamstress, extroverted, the life of the party, as well as a host of other things (hey, maybe i should write her a match.com profile! j/k).
anyway, in a world where the dance steps are too often missed and the music can seem out of tune, i am privileged to be friends with an amazing woman of God who can sing on key.