Almost 17 years ago, I showed up at Duke a wide-eyed, fresh-faced Freshman.  And to go off on a slight tangent, I totally feel compelled to criticize Hollywood for how they often portray college arrivals.  I mean who shows up to school with nothing more than a duffle bag slung over their shoulder and a single crate nestled in their arms with some books and a lamp? I'm not saying that everyone's arrival involves 2 fully packed cars, 4 adults, 1 overanxious teenager and somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 - 50 boxes and suitcases; but usually kids need more than 3 pairs of underwear, a sweater, and a lamp to survive a year away from home.

Anyways, I was fortunate early on in my Freshman year to meet some extraordinary women. Well - they weren't women back then. They were still girls. We were all still girls. But nonetheless, the word extraordinary still applies. We were thrown together because we lived in the same dorms. We had the same classes. We had fake IDs and were able to get into the on-campus bar. We hooked up with dated the same boys. It didn't take long for the core of our group to form.  

The thing is with Freshman friendships, you don't really expect them to last. I mean, who knew that when I met a random blonde and a random brunette standing over a campfire the first week of school at an off-campus party, and who later accompanied me to Waffle House for what would be one of many late night breakfasts, that the bonds we were forming would be so everlasting?  Is it possible that keg beer, waffles and hashbrowns are better than Crazy Glue?

You wonder how 8 women could live together Senior year and not kill each other with cattiness and The Bitchies.  

You wonder if and how the friendships can survive the post-college era when everyone begins to move away, get a job, get married, have kids and in general, grow up. 

But we did. We survived. We survived distance and we survived time. And seventeen years later, I am still proud and awed that these extraordinary women are very much a part of my life. 

We started the tradition of an annual reunion weekend 4 years ago and this past weekend we convened at a gorgeous house on Lake Travis in Texas for 3 glorious days that saw lots of laughter, a few tears, way too many stairs, plenty of sun (for the last 4 years I have departed on Sunday red as a lobster), and enough chips and salsa to last me a lifetime. Seriously. No. More. Corn.

It was a wonderful weekend, can't you tell?

There was a time when I wondered if our friendships would endure.  Not because we didn't love each other fiercely, but because the death of a friendship sometimes feels inevitable.  As we grow older, our lives get more complicated and burdened by more responsibility. We don't have as much time for all of the things we once had time for.

And although our lives have changed dramatically over the last 17 years, one thing hasn't.  These last 17 years have proven that these women are more than my friends. They are my family. Where they go, I go. Where I go, they go. Always.