I always think about my friend G when I clean out the refrigerator.

When I was interning at a church during college, I lived with G. She was, hands down, one of the best roommates I've ever had. On the first day I moved in, she gave me a list of "Things to Know About Living Here," which included how to park in the driveway (no lie) and how to avoid the wrath of her devil-cat (wish I were joking). I have so many fond memories of that brief moment in my life, like...

-Buying ice cream from the grocery store, ordering pizza from Dominoes, and sitting on the couch stuffing our faces while watching the "Biggest Loser."

-Coming home to find my sister, who was visiting me for the week, squatting on top of the kitchen counter, wearing oven mitts and holding a broom, terrified of the "devil-cat" who was hissing and spitting at her from the middle of the kitchen floor.

-Constant conversations about how I used to leave kitchen cabinet doors open and accidentally burn the burner covers on the stove.

-Sideways glances from her when L and I would sit too close together on the couch.

-Her laugh. It's one of my top five most favorite laughs in the whole wide world.

-Unashamed jealousy over the fact that her mom's favorite thing to do was show up unannounced and take her on a shopping spree.

But my all-time favorite memory of G has to be the realization that there was a leftover covered casserole dish in her refrigerator from the Thanksgiving the year before. Mind you, I moved into the house during the summer. We threw that whole $15-dish away, we never even opened the lid. I think we sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and laughed for a half hour. So, every time I clean out my refrigerator and stumble upon a tupperware container that was shoved into the back and forgotten about, I think of my friend G. And I smile.