Celez. Not Celeste.

Back when I was a kid, I met another “kid” named Celez who became a very good friend of mine.

Whoa. It just dawned on me that we’ve known each other for about 19 years. Whaaat? Are we really old enough to say things like that?
I remember getting her name totally wrong. She had to correct me about four times before I finally got it right. I kept saying everything from Celeste (which she hates) to Celeeez. It's a miracle I didn't call her Celery.

It still amazes me that though we’ve lead very different lives as the years went by, don’t live near each other, etc., we can still connect as if things haven’t changed from that day in 7th grade when we were trying out for our school's colorguard. (why we ever thought it was cool to twirl a flag in the air, much less get bonked in the face as it came furiously crashing down on us, is beyond me)

Distance has not become a permanent fixture in our friendship--we still connect and laugh about everything. She's seen me through a lot--dumb boys, breakups, family bickerings, a lonely year in another state for college and later on, celebrating with me in the joys of being there for my wedding. And thankfully, she’s remained as wacky as she was the day I met her, and graciously volunteered herself for a photoshoot one Saturday afternoon. Glamour shots, we called them. Her and her pup Coco, the four-legged cotton ball, made excellent subjects and were extremely patient as I adjusted my camera settings for each photo shot and simultaneously tried to make the best of the fading daylight.

Everyone, meet a very good friend of mine, Celez.

Not Celeste. =)

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