My friend Casey Bond is the ultimate Renaissance woman. In a matter of exactly 24-hours, I’ve seen her fix a carburetor, prepare an armadillo for taxidermy, plant a tomato garden, throw a BBQ for friends, install a hot tub and bartend a wedding reception for 300+ guests by herself.
For her – that’s a typical Saturday.
She is singlehandedly the coolest, most fearless chick I’ve ever met. She’s got the business savvy (and bust line) of Dolly Parton. She’s also got the oozing charm and charisma (and hourglass figure) of Marilyn Monroe. And if Mother Teresa had boobs – I’d compare Casey to her in a white-hot second. Girlfriend is wildly philanthropic and would do just about anything to help a friend in need.
She’s also stubborn, bossy, no-nonsense and all the other things you want in the ultimate gal pal. From the nanosecond I met her, I was determined to be her friend. We’ve been cavorting around and wreaking havoc ever since.
About a month ago, Casey decided – in true Bohemian fashion – to chuck her life and belongings in KC and move away to a tropical island. People always say they’re going to do that – but Casey followed up on her promise.
As we speak, she and her badass Jeep are on their way to St. Thomas – where she will set up shop and reinvent herself once again. (She’s like Madonna that way … I mean, if Madge had an enormous rack.)
Of course, because Casey is wildly impulsive and decided on a mere whim to do this – I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to her last week. This week I’m in Atlanta for work and imagine my surprise when Casey took a slight detour to have lunch with me today. “The universe works in mysterious ways, huh,” I said. “Obviously, there was some sort of cosmic intervention that wanted us to say our goodbyes in person.”
“Cosmic what?” she replied. “Nah – more like I wanted some good ol’ fashioned soul food and I knew you’d throw down with me.” Oh … and did I mention the girl can eat? She can also trap it, skin it, season it and filet it before you eat it. I will miss Casey … but KC’s loss is St. Thomas’ gain.
I just hope they’re ready for Hurricane Casey – in all her girly-girl glory.
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