Mid-20s Malaise

Struggling against the inevitable since 1986!

30 Things: Day Seven

Your best friend

Sorry. This isn’t the seventh consecutive day. I got distracted by life: the lead-up to Christmas was busy in my professional and private lives.

Which is sort of a nice segue to this post about my best friend. I’m very lucky. I have many close friends, all of whom I know I could call on in a crisis or drop in on unannounced for a cuppa. There are a handful I refer to interchangeably as my best friend. I don’t see it as an exclusive position; I tend to use it to denote particular closeness.

But there is one friend I am especially fond of. I once described her to my mother as “just like me, but with a vagina”. Steph and I met in the first week of university. We were both very nervous, and had very different ways of showing it: me by being loud and gregarious (no surprises there), her by being quiet and withdrawn. Nevertheless, we both developed a friend-crush on each other, and surreptitiously tried to befriend the other without seeming too desperate. We eventually did become good friends, and then housemates. Like all living situations, we had our ups and downs, but I had such fun living with Steph. I looked forward to her waking up every day (she was a late sleeper, while I was an early riser) so we could chat over coffee. I looked forward to finishing work on Saturday so she and I could bitch about our customers (she worked in a department store, I worked in a cafe) with a beer on our porch.

No one makes me laugh like Steph does. She’s funny, smart, brave and gorgeous. She writes a blog called Poor Stevie (an adorably self-pitying mantra of hers) which has most recently chronicled the trip she and her husband have taken across Europe and America. I was devastated to miss her wedding when I was living in London last year. I ran into her in the city the day after I returned to Australia, and went out to dinner with her and some friends soon after. Apart from that, I haven’t seen her since I left Australia the July before last. I miss her so much, and can’t wait to see her.

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One Response

  1. Ian says:

    I firmly believe that after a sleepless night, the need for a cuppa IS a crisis. (And if you happen to have both or either in the US, you can call on me!)

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