Louisville Magazine

FEB 2019

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

Issue link: https://loumag.epubxp.com/i/1074882

Contents of this Issue


Page 14 of 111

bourbonbarrelfoods.com figureweightloss.com 12 LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 2.19 INTER-OFFICE MEMO Continued from previous page I met Shauna sometime before we both went to Trinity High School's prom junior year. That spring, I rode shotgun in her white Ford Escape, likely on our way to a house with lenient parents. She put on the new (at the time) M.I.A. song "Paper Planes" and we bounced around in our seats, basking in our independence. A few years later, when I transferred to UK, I barely knew anyone but Shauna. The whole group from UK became my best friends (each with their own story of how we first bonded). And Shauna is still driving that Escape. Mary Chellis Nelson Managing editor My best friend, Carrie Christensen, and I met at Earlham College in 1990. She was living on "the farm," which was student housing, part of the agriculture program. In reality, it was an old haunted house with a couple of sheep, some chickens, bees and a garden. I'm sure we met at a party that neither of us remembers (actually, she might). We moved here in 1994. I trust her with my life. Suki Anderson Art director First grade, Lincoln Elementary School, re- cess. I spot two girls doing flips on the playground and desperately want to show them my mad flipping skills. I knew one of them from kindergarten, but not too well, and had never seen the other. I went up to them and asked if I could play. Lexi, the one I knew, told me they had to "conference" about it, then said I could play with them on a trial basis. Apparently I passed the trial run because the three of us are still besties. Mandy Wood Advertising account executive My best friend lived three doors down my whole childhood. Our houses were like continuous revolving doors. As adults, our doors no longer revolve because we live three hours apart, but she's still always there. Emily Douglas Advertising account executive

Articles in this issue

Links on this page

Archives of this issue

view archives of Louisville Magazine - FEB 2019