Best Friend Story #7: "I Must Kill You to Assimilate ________"

      It's only natural for really good friends to threaten to kill each other on a regular basis. Right?
     This trend started around October last year, when I was starting to seriously think about leaving for school. I needed boots. I would be plowing into Idaho right in the middle of winter, so I needed the appropriate footwear. It was around this time that I also had a burning desire to own a pair of lace up boots, so I went online shopping with my dad and we bought a pair of fuzzy winter boots and, the store we were shopping at no longer had the other boots I wanted in stock, so we bought the next best option.
     The boots were still super cute. And when they arrived I sent a picture to Hannah expressing my excitement. She responded by posting a status, stating: "Miranda has cuter boots than me. Ergo, I must kill her to assimilate her finer footwear."
     Hannah and I are notorious for making plans for taking over the world, not getting jealous over each other's clothes. At least I think that's the case. So I think this came as a shock to most people.
     This happened again just this past April, when I bought a white leather jacket for myself. Now she needs to kill me to assimilate my finer footwear and jacket.
      I should probably find something of Hannah's that I need to kill her to acquire.

MORAL OF THE STORY: It's not a true friendship until you've threatened to kill each other at least once.

Best Friend Story #6: How to Insult a Storm Trooper

     Well folks, we're a third of the way to the finish, and this month it's a good one.
     For my 17th birthday, I had the marvelous opportunity to choose where I wanted to spend it. Disneyland was the obvious choice for location and Hannah, being an almost-college student that had no obligations at the time (she had just graduated and didn't need to go to school for several more weeks), was the obvious choice for a companion. Much like Girl's Camp, Disneyland is the birthplace of many inside jokes, such as a game we invented called Guess the Meme Face.

(Guess the Meme Faces)

(Hint: It's Annoying Facebook Girl and Philosoraptor)

     That set aside, we were waiting in the obnoxiously long line for the new and improved Star Tours. In our boredom, we noticed two storm troopers walking towards the building the ride was contained in. And Hannah, in her infinite glory, suggested I pull one of them aside and let them know that they are "a little short to be a storm trooper" (reference).

     There was a little dispute over who should be the one to make the statement, and after Hannah backed off and I took it upon myself to do the thing. So I reached out and tapped one as he walked by, half of my mind thinking he wouldn't even turn to give me the time of day.

     He didn't.

     I now had not only captured the attention of my family, but the surrounding Disneyland goers as well. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I took off my sunglasses and said, "Aren't you a little short to be a storm trooper?"

     I still was expecting this guy to quietly move on. It seemed like the kind of thing he got told 50 times a day. But apparently not, because he only stepped closer (close enough that I could see his eyes through his helmet), and just slowly shook his head. It all happened in a very intense 25 seconds. I still, to this day, do not know how I managed to keep a straight face through the whole thing.

     Every time I go back to Disneyland I try to do the same thing, but to no avail. It was a once in a lifetime thing.

MORAL OF THE STORY: When you're at Disneyland and you have a one-sided conversation with an employee wearing a storm trooper helmet, don't let the power go to your head.

Best Friend Story #5: Pokemon

     In the summer of my fifteenth year, I attended Girl's Camp. Hannah was there as well (clearly). Being a fifth year and she, being a sixth year, we both had the privilege of teaching the younger campers, particularly the fourth years. This included educating them in the art of making bedrolls, first aid, and cooking in Dutch ovens. It was also the birthplace of many inside jokes. Airplanes.
     At Girl's Camp, at the end of your fifth year, you receive an award of sorts known as the Liahona. In short, you are observed and given a "point of the compass" (mountain, living things, rivers and streams, campfire, tree, stars, true camper) based on  the leadership qualities you possess. The year before, Hannah was awarded with rivers and streams. She used this to introduce herself as a type of Pokémon.
     On the first or second day of certification, we introduced ourselves to the girls to which Hannah proclaimed, "My name is Hannah, I am a water type Pokémon. This is Miranda. She is also a water type Pokémon."
     Thursday night is the Liahona ceremony, and I was given the campfire. Almost immediately after the ceremony, Hannah approached me.

     HANNAH: You got the campfire.
     ME: Yes?
     HANNAH: Do you know what this means?
     ME: No?
     HANNAH: You are a fire-type Pokémon.

     It's a good day when you are appointed to a group of Pokémon. Gives you a sense of purpose in life.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Find out what type of Pokémon you are. You didn't know you were missing it from your life until you find out.
    

Best Friend Story #4: Critique

     Hannah and I have this thing where we find really sick enjoyment in locating horribly written stories/fanfictions and analyzing them to no end. Ripping these stories apart brings us more joy than Dean Winchester in a tuxedo because let's face it, there's nothing better than knowing you're better than someone else at something.
     On the Fourth of July last year, Hannah kick-started this trend when she posted this video to my Facebook timeline.

     And once we get started on something, it's difficult to get us to stop. So, we even took it so far as to dedicating an entire night to (attempting to) watching said video over and over again so we could analyze both author and story. We even bought drinks and created our own bar, complete with juice, water, and diet Coke.

Exhibit A

(The bar of two Mormon girls under the age of 21)

     We even bought several bags of air. Lucky for us, the companies were courteous enough to include food in said bags.

Exhibit B

(Hot Cheetos in Hannah's bag of air)

     Instead of analyzing bad fanfiction that night, we ended up reading even more bad fanfiction and talking about boys and working on our own stories for Camp NaNoWriMo that year. We are very productive people.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Abandon all hopes of attempting to follow a set schedule with your best friend because, well.

Best Friend Story #3: War

     11 October, 2012: 7:55 PM (PST)

     I had returned home from a long and stressful day at work, feeling rather upset at everything in general for reasons I cannot currently recall. I ate some dinner, and then logged onto Facebook to see that infamous little red square in the upper left hand corner of my screen. I clicked on it, and read the message: "Hannah Gunson posted a photo to your timeline." The little thumbnail that came with the notification told me infinitely more.
     For those who are not aware, I had (and still do have) a bit of a liking towards actor Jeremy Renner. I can say this without shame since all of my Facebook friends have seen the aftereffects of the battles Hannah and I took part in.
     Anyway, I clicked on this link, and was met with this:

                         

     and I did that thing where I stopped breathing for a few seconds and had to make sure my heart was still beating because... well.
     Ten comments later, Hannah wrote: "I am impervious because you fight fire with fire and sexy with sexy so he barely makes me tingle.
     "(That was a dare, by the way)"
     Now, the reason Hannah and I are so close is because we know each others secrets. And at this point, I was well aware of her attraction towards Chris Evans. So, I posted a photo to her wall. We had exploited each other's weaknesses. And the world exploded. And the best part about fighting in a war against your best friend is the concern you always have for each other. For example: (An actual conversation that took place)

     ME: Now on to more important things, like how are you on ammo?
     HANNAH: Empty, for now. Doing homework.... I can refill by tonight for war tomorrow.
     HANNAH: I love how we're considerate of each other. All wars should be fought this way.
     ME: Tell me about it. I will wait.

     This is called a considerate war. The whole world should be like this.

MORAL OF THE STORY: When you've got beef on your best friend, you take advantage of it.

Best Friend Story 2/18: Beds

     In August of 2012, I attended a YSA (young single adult) conference with Hannah and some other close friends. In attendance, we danced, we sang with people who sat in the hallways with their guitars, fell behind on our word counts for Camp NaNoWriMo, out-awkwarded friends, listened to dramatic readings of horrible fanfictions, declared Disneyland better than Six Flags (who would argue it anyway?), refrenced my books, and attended vampire tea parties (there will be a post about this in December this year).
     And by some strange series of events, it wound up being Hannah Gunson, Katelyn Dorny, Katherine Swihart, and Miranda Day all in the same hotel room. And by an even stranger turn of events, Hannah and I wound up sleeping in the same bed. I believe it was because we were the two of us four that were participating in Camp NaNoWriMo and we were considering staying up later to write.
     ANYWAY, I thought it would be wise to give Hannah a fair warning since people I have shared beds with always have... interesting stories to share with me in the morning. Sometimes I push people off in my sleep, sometimes I talk, and one time I woke up holding hands with whoever I was sharing with.
     Unfortunately, it didn't do anything to help the situation, because when I woke up, Hannah informed me that in the middle of the night, I mumbled something in my sleep and turned over, waking her up. And then (quite abruptly, I might add), I swung my arm around and smacked her in the shoulder.
     This inevitably led to lots of jokes directed towards me regarding what married life for me is going to be like.
     (Dear Future Husband,
     I am apologizing ahead of time for any strange behaviors I may exhibit in my sleep. Just bear with me, because sometimes I'm nice and you'll wake up in the morning and see that we are holding hands.
     Love,
     Miranda)

MORAL OF THE STORY: Don't share a bed with your best friend.

Best Friend Story 1/18: Laughter

     On April 18th of this year, I went to Disneyland with Hannah Gunson, Burke McComb, and Forrest Nerdin.

     While waiting in line for the new and improved Star Tours, we were messing around with our 3-D glasses and suddenly in the middle of our conversation, Hannah pointed out, "I wonder how long we could look at each other and not laugh."

     Seeing that we had not in fact tried this out in any way, shape, or form, I took this as a challenge and promptly suggested that we see how long we could hold eye contact without laughing.

     There was about thirty seconds of preparation (which consisted mostly of face-slapping and intense moments of frowning to ensure the maintaining of a straight face), and then the stare-off commenced.

     It was a very tense three seconds.

     MORAL OF THE STORY: Never challenge your best friend to a staring contest. You're just gonna end up giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.