My Best Friend, Veronika


My best friend, who’s pseudonym is Veronika (that’s right, with a ‘k’) is a dinosaur. Just kidding, but doesn’t she look like one in the picture?

As I type we are watching college football together. She is yelling angrily at the television. She hasn’t figured out that neither the coaches nor players can hear her from so many miles away. I won’t correct her; it’s cute.

Let me tell you a bit about her, since she was not happy with the lack of Veronika-ness on my blog. She is a sassy young woman who has more sarcasm in her left earlobe than you have in your entire body. Her food pyramid is a triangle consisting of three equal segments: Meat, potatoes, sugar. She has a passion for everything Germany and often forces me to answer her Deutsch questions even though I have no idea what she is saying. She also cannot properly change the tone of her sentences to sound like questions. I tolerate her anyway. We have a fish together. His name is Mr. Fish and he loves eating bubbles and pooping. Once when I walked into our room I heard her scolding our fish: “There’s poop coming out of you, just let it happen!”

When I first talked to her (over the internet) I was super intimidated. She seemed like a bad kid and I thought she would punch me for no reason. The latter turned out to be accurate while the first was not. Veronika is a very interesting person. She loves cows, ice cream, honey buns, singing, tie dye, sports, “soft” screamo, and much more. She has the thickest hair I’ve ever seen on a human head. It looks like either a) horse hair or b) wig hair. She often tells me I look as though I’m balding. She’s a great friend.

We’ve had so many awesome, unforgettable memories after a full year of living together. She was the person I turned to when all of the other girls were having woman issues and the estrogen was running high. We would go on walks, play football, and talk about less feminine things…like squirrels. Speaking of which, we had a squirrel that lived outside of our old room last year named Gerald. I miss him.

I know Veronika will read this. At this point she will have shaken her head approximately 9 times, “packed her chew” (in a sassy manner) about 3 times, gotten distracted and not wanted to continue after each paragraph, and is now smiling at my ridiculous knowledge of her body language. If you ever have a conversation with my best friend I wish you luck. She tells unbelievably long stories that have no point. She can’t ask questions. She often doesn’t form coherent English sentences that follow grammar and general vernacular standards. But, she keeps life interesting and I’d never give her up for anything in the world.

Love you, Veronika.


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