Over the weekend I went to one of my besties 30th birthday parties. Le sigh. It’s when your friends who you consider babies start turning 30 that I start staring at the wrinkles around my eyes with a little more fervour.
However, I digress… I also kidnapped her last night and had a big girlie-squat catch up over dinner at the Bavarian Beer Cafe. I highly recommend the pork belly… I’m digressing again.
Poss, for that is her name, and as if I ever call anyone by like… their actual name… is an air-hostess for an international airline and is uber-glamourous but also as you can imagine uber-not-here-so-often.
It was so nice to see her one on one and just catch up, she’s known me for 11 or 12 years now. She knows all my faults, she calls me Bloss or Buttons, I call her Bottomchop. I can talk to her about anything and know that she will never judge or hurt me with the information I give her.
I miss being able to say to someone “it’s not easy being green you know” and that person actually understanding what I mean, I miss having girls nights out with her where we would finally drag our sorry butts home at 4am.
Most of all, I just miss Poss.
But at least you could see all those young whipper-snappers without specs or contacts!!
I miss Poss too, and I don’t even know her!!
I want to meet Bottomchop and eat Pork Belly too.
Maybe you can come up with a middle name for my son too. Apparently he doesn’t like the one I gave him…