Year 10 – 1988 – me on the left ūüôā
Meet my High School BFF. If you have been reading me for a bit you will have seen the post about my person, but this friendship was before that. That one was later and took years to fully fledge and blossom.
This was my first BFF, the one where you meet her and YOU ¬†JUST KNOW.¬†The first hint of sarcasm, the meeting of blue eyes that actually smiled with her laughter, the first ironic comment must have sealed the deal that first week in year 8 at high school. I’m really not sure what it was but from then on we were joined at the hip. No questions asked. She was the Diana to my Anne and a kindred spirit that I knew would see me through forever. Even though there have been spaces in our togetherness (thanks for the inspiration Mr Gibran) ,she and I shared something. I can’t really put my finger on it (even that analogy would have her in fits of laughter – finger. on. it. Get it? Yes, dah-ling, I do, remember that card? I know you do – pull my finger!), we both just knew and although we hung around in the same small group right through to year 12, everyone knew that I was hers and she was mine. Her name was rarely mentioned without mine following.
Gawd, we both loathed exercise with a passion and wagged P.E. religiously. It was the only religious thing we believed in. We would run half the first leg of cross country and then hide under a bush and gossip until the last sweaty runners would stagger past and we would sail out and join them for the last hurrah.
We would opt for squash as a sports elective at school as we knew once inside the courts we could sit cross legged and discuss what base we were up to with the latest boyfriend.  We chose cycling also as we could divert past a girlfriends house and pop in for icecream with the teacher being none the wiser.
Us at our year 12 High School Ball – yes, we took boys, just not in the photo!
We went to choir camp together for all 5 years I reckon and fancied different boys each year, some we dated and giggled about and much discussion was had about, well, you know. We were both in the school orchestra, she played the viola and me the flute, and did a production of Pirates of Penzance together in year 12. We dated boys from the same school, best mates from that play too – how ironic and SNAP! We went to the same High School Balls and always got ready together.
We bought the same crappy teen magazines as we both wanted the same MJF poster inside for our bedroom wall – remember that KISS on the BOAT in The Secret of My Success? We would watch, pause and rewind, sigh. Watch, pause and rewind, sigh. Watch….you get it. We both liked Kirk Cameron, she loved John Stamos and we worshipped Johnny Depp – except he was a bit “bad” for us – we liked the nice guys. She liked A-ha, we both knew the words to Phantom of the Opera. She had every MJ album and bought them on cassette as they came out. I¬†wasn’t¬†cool enough to like MJ back then. She was.
We had sleepovers and watched The Princess Bride, Erik the Viking and Anne of Green Gables. We both swooned after Gil. We both got bad perms, bad fringes and awful ra-ra skirts.
We wrote each other notes in class, even though we would see each other in the next break. We saved seats in the bus for the ride home and my Dad picked her up each morning (poor bugger had a full car each morning) and took her to school with me. I¬†couldn’t¬†get enough of her in High School. We were M.F.E.O. My day revolved around her and no out of school activity was planned without her involvement.
We went to different Universities after School and then I was bridesmaid as she married her High School sweetheart who then took her away to Canberra to live. Like it or not, geography and marriage alters a relationship and although after many years when she came back to live in Perth we tried to resume our friendship, but it¬†wasn’t¬†the same. Her marriage had broken down, something she¬†wasn’t¬†comfortable discussing, and I was newly engaged to a man she had never met. We tried but a lot of our conversations always reverted to “remember when…..?” Although the connection was there, it was as though the phone lines were crossed – so much going on and we didnt know what to concentrate on. Bizarre. The length of time between each conversation drifted and before you knew it, years had passed since we spoke. I had married and divorced as well and to be honest, I¬†didn’t¬†even know where she lived!
Us in Pirates of Penzance
Then FACEBOOK came along! Yay for facebook.
About five years ago I was living in South Hedland (bum arse of nowhere in WA, up the duff and bored out of my brain) and searched for her, found her and we became “friends”. I discovered she had rekindled her high school relationship with a fella from year 11 (again, gotta heart facebook) and she found out I was divorced, re-married and pregnant.
I also found out that she was JUST THE SAME!
It was like we never left high school when we actually picked up the phone and talked – once again we were on the same page in life and the lines of communication were open! I think I cried – trying to explain what this meant to me to my husband through the tears after our first ¬†real 2 hour conversation, he thought I was crazy. I had found my friend again! I¬†didn’t¬†want to hang up the phone. And she was just how I remembered, but better – she was here, in my life again. I still live in the country and the¬†geography¬†is hard to navigate but we are trying to make it real ūüôā
Here she is – from her 40th Birthday that I drove up to Perth for the weekend just gone.
She had gotten married the weekend before. WOW!!!
I was wearing, if you remember, that little red number. It had a zip up the back that went from bottom to top and although it lasted through most of the 80’s and 90’s flashbacks on the dance floor, it¬†didn’t¬†hold up to “Kung Fu Fighting” with me kicking out like a maniac – SPLIT right up the bum. Her uncle rescued me with his¬†black¬†panama hat and I hid my dignity behind it as I raced for the loo to fix my rather massive wardrobe malfunction. I managed to salvage the dress but that was my last dance as the zip had broke and any further wiggles set it free again.
So I sat on the sidelines.
And watched my gorgeous, glamorous, fantastic, amazing and simply marvellous BFF from high school dancing up a sexy storm on the floor. She was just amazeballs and I¬†couldn’t¬†stop being enveloped by the surrealness that had brought us both to this very moment.¬†She¬†had survived and thrived, and for the past 15 years, she had done it without me by her side. I look at her new BFF now and feel tiny tingles of jealousy, but all is good and as it should be. I am glad she has so many beautiful friends, and I KNOW they treasure her gorgeousness as much as I do. She texted me the next day to ask if I was OK. She thought I looked a bit sad. But no honey, I¬†wasn’t¬†sad. Not at all (well prolly a little about my poor dress) – quite the opposite. I was just drinking you in and being simply amazed (the word of the post it seems) that I can boast that I knew this stunning woman way “back when” and you cant buy those memories and I will have them forever.
Happy 40th Birthday my Dah-ling!
Here’s to the next 40.
I love you so much.