When I first met April in the dorm freshman year in college, I made her repeat everything, like a parrot.
I had never heard a South Carolina accent before, and I was fascinated.
(I don’t have an accent, you see. I’m like Katie Couric.)
I made April repeat all kinds of things: My name, my twin sister, Joy’s name, lines from movies, and, of course, “ya’ll.”
When April says the word ya’ll, it sounds like “YAW.”
Also:
“Oil” sounds like “OLLLLL” and “heels” sound like “huuuuuls.”
Haha. I’ve picked on her about her accent for nine years now.
Nine years! Holy moly!
I know it's been nine years because it was her birthday two weeks ago, and birthdays are always a good way to remember how long you’ve known someone.
So, yea, it’s been almost a decade since our very first meeting, when I asked April to say the word “Bubba” — because that word should always be said with a Southern accent.
It would be impossible to explain in a single blog entry how different my life would be if I hadn’t met April.
I could talk about all the superficial things, like how I wouldn’t have traveled to exotic places like Greenville, SC and Clemson, SC, or even to “Club Amnesia,” a bar in her small hometown.
(“I don’t remember going to Club Amnesia!” we joked.)
I wouldn’t have lived in the reasonably-priced apartment in college that April found.
I wouldn’t have gotten a fool-proof fake “novelty” I.D. with my actual picture on it from a flea market in Atlanta, had April not taken me there.
(Side note: After I took a picture for my own “novelty I.D.," I took my hair down and my jacket off and took another picture as “Joy” and then mailed her the card. She became the most popular girl at LSU.)
April also had no problem letting me borrow her car in college, which was especially helpful when I interned at a weekly newspaper.
Part of my job was to drive to the scary police station every week and scour police reports for the funny "blotter" column.
(“You should not be riding your bicycle here!” the police chief told me my first week on the job. “I don’t want to see you pedaling here again!”)
April is also much girlier than I am, and has done my hair and makeup countless times when I needed to look professional. She's also the only one I trust when I need an honest opinion about whether I should change my outfit or cut my hair. Or shower.
But that’s all superficial stuff.
The best thing about April, and what makes her my best friend, forever and ever, is how she handles being best friends with both me and Joy.
Not everyone can handle twins, you see.
Over the years, we've had former friends and former boyfriends who literally could not stand the fact that we had an identical counterpart.
Joy and I have been chastised for “putting each other first,” physically separated when we would get into obnoxious giggling fits, and frowned at if we took a phone call from our twin.
(“YOU TALK TEN TIMES A DAY! WHAT COULD SHE POSSIBLY WANT NOW???”)
Seriously.
Some selfish souls have even tried to play us against each other. Those people are no longer around.
So, no, twins are not for everyone. April, however, is the best friend a twin could ever have — she's best friends with us both. Equally and wholeheartedly.
She’ll listen to us whine about the other without burning bridges. She doesn’t take sides. She won’t exclude us from one another.
She’s understanding about how much we talk to each other on a daily basis, she’ll laugh at us when we get into giggling fits and she won’t even call us by the wrong name (unless she’s had too much vodka, haha).
She was also Joy’s first best friend in South Carolina when Joy moved here post-Hurricane Katrina.
I don’t even know if I’ve ever told April this, but I will be forever grateful for welcoming Joy during that horrible time with wide, open arms.
Must be that South Carolina hospitality. YAW.
-Jenny
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