Happy Birthday Bits

I took a vacation from my blog this weekend. What? As you know from my posts, I have a tough life.  This weekend, for example, I had to go to see Spiderman on Broadway with my parents, as well as go out to two fancy dinners with them.  Austin dragged me to a flea market in Brooklyn.  Okay, I dragged him, but it was a difficult trip because I could feel his eyes piercing through the back of my head every time I got close to a rack of clothes. Plus, I was tired from having to think of new ways to try to explain what a “hipster” is to Austin (so that he would stop referring to everyone with glasses as a “hipster”).

Anyway, here I am, blogging on a Wednesday, and it just so happens that this Wednesday, February 22 is the birthday of the one and only, Jessica Bitsack.  I use the word “indescribable” sparingly, because as someone who writes and appreciates reading good writing (not by me, by others, of course), I don’t really believe that the term applies in many cases.  But if I could say that one person (and only person) in my life is indescribable, it would hands down be Jessica Bitsack.

I met Bitsack in August of 2006 during our freshmen year of preseason camp at Colgate.  It wasn’t really love at first sight.  Bitsack was a fitness psycho who enjoyed sprinting 120’s and went to the gym after soccer practice for an extra workout.  As two of the faster and fitter people on the team, we often finished one after the other in fitness tests and conditioning workouts.  For whatever reason (we played the same position, she was good, she was pretty, she could really run, etc.), I had an irrationally strong desire to never finish behind Bitsack.  I don’t remember wanting to beat someone so badly in a running contest since the “mile” race around the property of my elementary school, when I just had to finish ahead of all the boys in my third grade class.  I won’t even get into the actual soccer bit because it is actually kind of pathetic how my heart would drop whenever Bitsack scored during a preseason practice that summer.

I don’t think I ever told Bitsack this (i.e. how I loathed her) and although at the time, I was somewhat convinced that she had showed up at preseason just to torture me, I would bet that Bitsack didn’t even sense this intense rivalry that consumed so much of my own mind.  (In general, I would say that my world and Bitsack’s world often were not one in the same.  But that statement would really need a psychologist to go any further.)  In any case, it is safe to say that I did not imagine at the time that I would one day call Bitsack one of my closest friends, or worse yet, my roommate.  It is definitely safe to say that I did not imagine myself celebrating her personal victories on the soccer field nor her comforting me in my personal tragedies (imagined, real, minor, and somewhat major) off the soccer field.

In celebration of Bitsack’s birthday and her indescribable nature, I would like to remember some of my favorite “Bitsack” moments and qualities—in no particular order, random, just like the birthday gal herself.  Don’t worry, Bits, there are several moments that will remain sealed in Vera’s quote book and a few that will always stay close to my heart, for safekeeping.

1. How you used to incorrectly use the words “celibacy” and “underprivileged.
2. When you used to put cartons of soymilk and bottles of soy sauce from our college cafeteria in your backpack to bring home with you.
3. How you had an entire bin (big enough to fit a large child) filled with coffee materials in our townhouse junior year and I never saw you make a cup.
4. The way you used to call out our coach’s name in a screechy tone across the soccer field, “Kaaaathhh.”  Her name was Kathy.  No one called her Kath.
5. When you told us you needed to go on a liquid diet to fit into your formal dress and then proceeded to eat dairy for three weeks straight.  And when Carrie asked you why you buy dresses that are too small for you and you said, “Because I like a challenge.”  And then Carrie said, “You should try going to class.  That’s challenging for you.”
6. How you used to Clorox the entire apartment, naked.
7. The night you were sick with one of the plagues or epidemics that you came down with at Colgate (not Swine flu, but the other one) and we went to the hospital and you wouldn’t stop talking about how all the nurses were in a conspiracy theory against you.
8. The first time you told someone who was giving us a ride downtown to “just put me in the trunk,” even though there was an extra seat in the back of the sedan.
9. When you were the first person ever to be denied at the door of the Jug for being “too drunk.”
10. When you used to have “feeding time” and shove food down guys’ throats.
11. Everyday when you decided what outfit to wear.  And especially the days when it included animal prints.
12. When you dumped your large Mac laptop on one of our professor’s desk first semester, freshmen year and then rushed into a hurried explanation of how you couldn’t print your paper, but “HERE IT IS.”
13. The many text messages you sent to let me know that you were waiting for me to return to our apartment at the time, which sometimes truly did frighten me.
14. How mad the woman behind the sandwich counter got every time you asked, “May I please have some imitation crabmeat?”
15. When we came home from a night out in Aruba and you insisted on heading straight into the bathtub and not coming out.
16. “If you don’t have it now, you won’t have it tomorrow.”

Bits, I don’t miss watching you stir several different food groups in a bowl and then eat them all with a spoon.  I don’t miss seeing strands of hair in your mouth.  I don’t miss hearing you yell, “Manchester United” over and over again, when I am trying to fall asleep.  I don’t miss you setting the alarm for 3 a.m. to get up and “do homework.”  I do miss ordering Sushi Blues with you.  I miss the determined look on your face when you do my makeup.  I miss being able to count on you being in three places: your spot in the library, your cafeteria table at Frank, and your bedroom.  I miss being there to hear your daily descriptions of the world, which were always interesting or amusing, and sometimes both.  I miss you being there to literally cheer me on through all my small successes (and just small events), like class readings of stories that I had written.  I miss your delirious laughter and waking up to see thousands of throw pillows propped up on your bed.

Bits, sometimes I wonder what planet you beam in from everyday, but even if I never figure it out, I will be glad that you did beam in at all.  You have made the past five or so years of my life a little more indescribable than they would have been without you.  And I can honestly say that if I had to relive them again, I wouldn’t want to do it without you.

Post your favorite Bitsack moment here (provided that it is appropriate for this blog).