Happy Birfdie Thommo!

Today is my best friend’s birthday. I usually forget it but thanks to the diary function in Outlook, I am now able to put a recurring meeting in so that I don’t. We met in year 10 at school. I’d been at Castle Hill High for 12 months, she had just arrived from Pommieland. Her uniform was uncoolly long whilst ours was all tucked up and short bearing more than our 4 inches above the knee. She was well groomed and had perfectly clean shoes and white socks whilst we rebelled against the uniform and insisted on wearing Jesus sandals with no socks. This was after all the government school system. Straight out of Watford Grammar, she was tall, pretty, elegant with long straight black hair. Slim, intelligent and soon became very popular.

We caught the same bus so I used to trail behind her even though we disembarked from the same stop. She wasn’t cool. (neither was I but I was a ‘try-hard’). Eventually, this pilgrimage up Buckingham Road just seemed too silly and so we started talking on the bus, then gasbagging up the hill. Within weeks we were friends and now 30 years later she’s been there through thick and thin. She has led a charmed life. Married her childhood sweetheart (now my boss), had two beautiful children after incident free pregnancies, bought her house at the right time, sold it again at the right time. Made a lot of money – simply good timing – an opportunity presented itself and TheBoss took advantage, not really knowing how successful his venture would be. They are blessed. And I would be lying if I didn’t feel a little envious.

We went to uni together, we married two friends, we lived within 500metres of each other, we had our children within 12 weeks of each other . . .we played together, travelled together, danced together . . .I was her bridesmaid, she was mine . . . we attended funerals together.

She is so different to me. Physically, she’s tall and thin, straight hair, straight teeth. I’m tall and tubby with masses of mad curls that refuse to be tamed. She’s conservative in her politics and taste. I’m a ratbag liberal and don’t care what I look like. She’s a diplomat and smiles through a crisis. I call a spade a fucking shovel can argue the leg off a chair. She likes Sting and Eric Clapton, George Benson and Van Morrison. I like Gautier and Bloc Party, Led Zeppelin and Frank Zappa. She drinks Red, I drink White. She’s frugal with her money, I’m a spendthrift. She is an avid reader and never writes, I’ll write my socks off but rarely read. She has an eye for figures and detail – I sweep my broad brushstrokes across everything I do and stuff the spelling mistakes. She keeps in touch, I’m incredible at not returning that phone call. I guess we’re proof that opposites attract either that or the things we agree upon are what bind us:

• We both have a caring nature
• We are both highly principled
• We are both environmentalists
• We share and value a good education
• We had a loving upbringing that has imprinted on our psyche
• We are insistent on courtesy and treating others as we like to be treated
• We have a good sense of humour
• We have felt and can give great love
• We are always there for each other
• We both have difficult brothers
  
• We like Hawks Nest Thai Green Curry Pies and Chocolate Paddle Pops

She introduced me to Ray and many of my closest friends. She’s stuck by me through desperation and joy and all the places in between despite not really understanding where I’m coming from much of the time (it’s hard to empathise when your life is perfection) but she’s been my single best friend, my confidant, my rock, my whipping girl, my mentor, my sister, my consoler and my confessor. I love her very much and she forgives my lack of focus on the ‘ceremony’ of Birthdays. As usual I forgot to buy her a birthday card . . .she will not forget to by me one when my turn comes . . . I did buy her lunch!