She would laugh so hard if she knew I was writing a post about her.

Last night Breanna Lebsack and I took a break from our respective homework-related activities and jumped in my car for a spontaneous trip to Sandbridge beach, with the mandatory quick stop at Starbucks on the way.

(I only cheat on Moka on Sundays, when we're closed anyway. Don't judge.)

We talked about filmmaking and documentaries and boys and crushes and where we are in life and where we wished we were and about God and what He's been saying lately. We also decided that we were going to spend the next few years after graduation as the best female documentary team ever, trekking through third-world countries with nothing but backpacks and our Canon T3I cameras, making documentaries about...everything. (I'm sure our parents would be thrilled at the idea.)

Breanna is the passionate people-person, the visionary, the adventurous one, the spice in the Captain Morgan. She has a heart of pure gold. And she can paint, too.

She's going to be the Stateside eyes and ears of my senior project documentary next semester. I'm shooting in the Dominican Republic in mid-February and while I desperately wish I could take her with me, the budget only allows for a skeleton crew...as in 4 people, including myself. It really sucks. But she was so wonderfully gracious and selfless about the whole thing. "Do what's best for the story," she said. But she'll be there when we get back and I'm locked in the editing suite for days on end, and she'll let me know when my story isn't working, or when things would be better rearranged this way or that way, or to tie me to my chair when I'm ready to throw the computer (or myself) out the window.

You can't put a price on a friend like that.

Breanna, you're the best! I love you, girl!