My Dear Friend

My beautiful, dear, hilarious, intelligent, brave friend Ali passed away this morning. She lost her life when she stepped into the street to help a woman in a scooter accident; she didn't see the bus that was coming down the street as she stepped off the curb.

I don't know what do to with this thing that has happened. I feel that I want to record a few of my favorite Ali stories here so that I know that they are safe, so that I know that they can't be forgotten. I write this post for the girl who was in my cell phone as Ali Baba Nookie for the past six years, for the woman who was only just married this last November, who had everything ahead of her, and who has now gone ahead of all the rest of us here. Ali, I don't know what to do with you not being here, and I know that I am not alone in this sentiment. These stories are me missing you, us missing you, and hoping you are close, and hoping that you are warm, and hoping that you are smiling somewhere.

Our Martin Luther King, Jr. Day Adventure to Bear Lake. "Put these on," Ali said as I got into the car. "They're adventure hats." Yes, that's right. Ali had emergency adventure hats in the backseat of her car. How great is this woman? How irreplaceable!

I met Ali at Utah State. I was in my final year of my MA degree, and I was trying to find a cheap place to live for my last two semesters. Our town house was cheap and cheap. All of the roommates already knew, loved, and had lived with each other—I was the outsider. "You were supposed to find us," Ali told me once. "You are supposed to be our roommate."

I loved those girls. I loved Ali. Ali, Kaitlin, Lo, Yessica, Megan, and should-have-been-roommates-with-us Nicole. My abs and cheeks constantly hurt from laughing. We always stayed up too late.

I remember one night I was stuck in my office writing papers until after midnight. It was winter. There was fresh snow on The Quad, and I knew I would be lonely when only my footprints would mar the otherwise completely blank expanse of white under that bitter clear starry sky that only Logan-ites can really appreciate. As I collected my things, Ali sent me this text: "Come home quick! Kaitlin had a bad day so we are going down the stairs in cardboard boxes!"

I didn't get home in time to go down the stairs in a box myself, but I was welcomed home by a group of girls all piled on each other with broken remnants of boxes all around them. Midnight emergency roadtrips through nearby canyons were also not unheard of. I still have, in my iTunes, our "carpe diem" song list that we would sing-shout to as we drove through the forest in the dark. These are the songs that Ali, Yess, and I selected:

1. "Hakuna Matata" from The Lion King
2. "Fernando"—ABBA
3. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"—Cyndi Lauper
4. "A Horse with No Name"—America
5. "Bohemian Rhapsody"—Queen
6. "Smells Like Teen Spirit"—Nirvana
7. "Seize the Day"—Newsies
8. "Message in a Bottle"—The Police
9. "Changes"—Bowie
10. "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"—Rolling Stones
11. "Edge of Seventeen"—Stevie Nicks
12. the Duck Tales theme song
13. "I Think I Have a Chance with This Guy"—Strong Bad
14. "Under Pressure"—Bowie and Queen

Ali introduced me to a million great things, including Bear Lake's famous blackberry shakes.

Ali introduced me to Freaks and Geeks, and we watched all the episodes at least twice one semester. Later, when I was somewhat secretly in the LDS institute show choir, Ali and the gang came to one of my concerts and held up a big banner that said something like, "Our Car Bumper" in honor of the episode where Lindsay Weir wrecks her dad's car and then goes to a Mathletes competition. The "freaks" gang brings a bumper and holds it up to support her. Well, you just have to see the episode yourself. Ali's banner said, "WE LOVE YOU, EM!" on the back.

(I should also note that it was Ali who was always willing to watch my favorite part of Pete's Dragon with me when I was having a bad day, the "Money, Money, Money By The Pound" number that Dr. Terminus sings. THAT is real friendship.)

Spontaneous Cave Exploration

These following pictures document the time that we tried to make a Better-Than-Sex-Cake for Yess's birthday. The cake was gorgeous, but as it was cooling on our completely ghetto and safety-hazard back balcony, the worst happened—a gust of Logan wind blew the cake off the railing and face-down into the snow. "It's still good! It's still good!" Lo shouted as she dove into the chocolate disaster. Ali immediately jumped in, and I followed with a camera.

After eating half of the cake (without poor Yessica) on the balcony, in the snow, we finally salvaged the rest and returned inside.

 

 

 We ate the rest of the cake pretty cordially, but it didn't take long for things to turn into this:

I don't remember whose birthday these next photos document. All I remember is the orange cone that I think Lo might have had for some reason. Leave it to Ali to be the first to wear a cone-as-lampshade at a party.

Ali, do you remember the time we found a bird in our heating vents? Fear not, readers, it was still alive. We had heard banging in the pipes all morning, and we couldn't place the problem. I was eating cereal in the kitchen when my mouth dropped open and I found myself staring face-to-face with a small sparrow in the vent; the little guy kept poking his small beak through the vent, confused and lost and scared.

Ali unscrewed the vent to let the bird out, but it got spooked and flew deeper into the vents. She tried to coax it out with "here, Birdie birdie birdie," but that didn't work either. We thought bread might work, but, alas, none of us were very good at grocery shopping, and there was no bread in the house. Someone had, fortunately, baked a cake the night before, so Ali cut a small piece and placed it at the edge of the vent.

About twenty minutes later (dangerously close to when we all needed to leave to make it to class), the little bird emerged from the grate! What followed was a lot of laughing, screaming, and waving our arms to guide the bird not upstairs or downstairs as it seemed to be very keen on heading, but out the back door. Ali was the one to finally shepherd it to safety. I don't remember if we ate the piece of cake on the floor or not.

After Lo's concert.

These next photos document the day that Ali came home dressed as a Wookiee. I don't remember why. It doesn't really matter.

Only Ali could still look this adorable dressed in a monkey suit.

After we all graduated and moved on, we kept in touch. I'm so glad these girls kept me in their loop, even though I was technically the outsider, the girl who came at the very end of the adventures, who graduated and left earlier than the rest. When I got married in '09, Ali was the one to throw me my bachelorette party. And what a party it was. We carved cucumbers and danced without reservation to '80s music. It was so much fun. It was such the perfect night to my last evening as a single gal.

The next day, Ali and the gang came to my wedding reception and were my only guests to truly appreciate that David and I played Bowie's "As The World Falls Down" from Labyrinth for our newlywed dance. Thank you, Ali, for dancing at my wedding. Thank you for being there for me, for being such a selfless friend to so many of us, to people who will never be able to thank you enough.

Ali, Ali, Ali. My dear Ali Baba Nookie. You are so fearless. I want to be that fearless, that enthusiastic, that loving and giving. I hope it is okay with you that I share these stories here. We love you so much. We miss you miss you miss you.