Old friends are gold

I can’t remember when I heard the saying, but it has stuck with me for many years.

Make new friends, but the keep the old – one is silver, the other gold.

There is nothing better than time with an old friend. This weekend, I was thrilled to receive a visit from my absolute bestie. L and I have been great mates since our first overseas trip together in November 2005. L joined the organisation in October 2004 and I in January 2005. We had clicked and been friendly before then, but that trip cemented our friendship and I could probably count on two hands the number of days that we *haven’t* been in contact in that time. L has been living and working in Shanghai for almost 2 years, and in that time, we’ve been in contact every day. Seriously. Whether by email, call or text. I realise this perplexes people, including my family and boyfriend – ‘what could you possibly still have to talk about?’. As it turns out, plenty. We are never short on topics of conversation. Work, life, romance, celebrity, religion, sport – we’ve covered it all and then some.

This weekend marked the second time I’ve seen L since February 2010 – the last time was over Christmas/NY 2010/11, when I flew to China to spend the holidays with her. You never expect, when you start a new job, that you’ll make lifelong friends. You hope that you’ll click with a few, so that you have lunch and coffee dates, someone to chat to in the kitchen, and strategise with when things get political. I am lucky that in the past 7 years, I have made some great friends – people who know my ups and downs, and I theirs; people I will travel hundreds of kilometres to see and celebrate milestones, like weddings and birthdays, and people I will get a stamp in my passport for – such an unexpected delight.

24 hours before L’s arrival, I felt like crap. Achy, tired, chills and fever. Raw throat. I went to the clinic and discovered I had tonsillitis – and that I’d likely feel worse before I felt any better. Yay. Not. I called L to tell her, and that I wouldn’t be up for much for the weekend. “Good!” she said. “I’m exhausted. Let’s just chill out, do nothing.” Hurrah. Not many people would be happy to fly two hours to visit to do nothing. The expectation is that we’d doll ourselves up, put on our party frocks and have a wild, raucous night. But I’m not like that. And neither is L. And so, our rockin’ Saturday went a little like this: Manis & pedis. Cheese platter and chit chat. Flicking through mags, no chit-chat. Indian takeaway and True Blood. Lights out. And I loved it. Sunday was more of the same – chit chat, True Blood, lunch, foot massage. Early night. Heaven.

It’s nice when you can just be yourself. And just ‘be’. I’m grateful that I have a friend who knows me so well and understands – even better than me – the pressures of the job we do up here. It’s manic and exhausting. Relentless, but rewarding. Brilliant but hard to define. So thanks, L, for a weekend of mooching and green tea and Sookie Stackhouse. Let’s do it again soon.