And bcs she went all Calimero on me,

... here's a pic of my best friend and I. [Some are confused. Best GIRL friend is alive, yes. Best BOY friend, very dead, it would seem. Carry on].

Now will YOU stop snivelling? [If you think I'm being gratuitously mean fear not, punishement is on its way. She'll give me a light slap w her leaden hand and my arm will throb and hurt for 40 min. You think I'm kidding - HA!] Aren't we adorable? We've been best friends for 20 years. TWENTY. We talk every day and our conversations - well, you'll be envious:

RING, RING!
Tweedle Her: Hallo. *chomp, chomp*
Tweedle Me: What you eating?
TH: *chomp* a feece o 'read.
TM: ah ok. So.
TH: Printing stuff, you?
TM: Studying.
TH: Ah. Oh, I bought the shirt!
TM: Oh, the one you...?
TH: Yes.
TM: Brill! *goes to the loo and pees*
TH: You peeing? Now I must pee as well, wait while I move the phone. *pees as well* Listen, I'll need you on Thursday, will you be home?
TM: Yes, make it after 19.00. *flushing sounds*
TH: It's for that text I told you abt *flushing sounds*
TM: Fine. *running water soapy sounds* I feel like crisps...
TH: Well have some. *running water soapy sounds*
TM: Can't, don't have any.
TH: Oh. Bullocks.
TM: Yes!
TH: Oh the series is starting, bye!
TM: Bye.

There's not much I wouldn't do for my Tweedle.

Ruminations XVIII

My friends and I have become very uncool though. We no longer go clubbing - excuse me briefly while I collapse my left lung in paroxisms of laughter, the thought alone! [Why yes we're over 30, whatever gave it away?] Clubbing has become too strenuous, too late, too boring, too loud. Mind you, we'd go if there were any clubs left w good 80's music but alas, it's all zoing toong-toong-toong bing. Or something to that effect.

So we meet at someone's house and just talk or play games.And then Tweedle Her falls asleep on the couch, inevitably, at abt the ripe hour of 11 pm [YES] while I read fashion magazines, and the rest play poker [BLECH]. Or in the case of my Tweedle and I, before I joined the Circles of Hell that is, I'd go visit her in the afternoon while she was working - she works at home -, read her magazines and then go home. We hardly spoke - the woman was WORKING - and yet we both DID feel much better. Or I go to my friend T's to study while she works, we buy a roasted chicken, dog gets spoiled by auntie T. and bonds w her Oh-What-Did-I-Do-To-Deserve-This cat and it's always fun, minus the stuff I actually have to learn. Or my friend B. and I go get a movie and Strawberry Cheesecake Haagendasz, determined to wait till midnight AWAKE so we can go out*, and SHE falls asleep on the couch while I quietly contemplate HOW COMFY my flat is, and HOW WARM and look here, the cat is sleeping on my leg and I COULDN'T POSSIBLY DISTURB HER NOW COULD I? What kind of an owner would I be *she asks, horrified*? Or I go visit my friend C. and curl up on his enormous leather off-white couch talking and listening to music while his cat tries to eat my toes (almost always successfully but fair enough, I always clip his nails), and I slowly become hypnotised by one of this. Or my friend A.T. comes round and we have dinner on trays in the living-room and we just talk and talk.

How glorious to be uncool. *Purrs contentendly*

BUT. Be that as may be, don't think us tame, don't think us harmless. There IS excitement in our lives (even if vicariously at times). Remember this? No? Blow me, I'm still traumatised! Not many can honestly say they're friends with a closeted Ho of Babylon. See what an interesting life I lead?

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[* Porties go out very, very, VERY late. If you want to go clubbing you tend to meet up at around 22.30, go to a pub first and then to the club at around 2.00/3.00 bcs that's when everyone starts showing up. Truthfully, I don't know how I survived my teens and my 20's, more than once my friends and I parked our cars coming in as our parents were getting into theirs, leaving for work. ]