Tuesday, July 26, 2005

happy birthday to my best friend

by justrose

this also appears on the rowhouse; i got ala's permission before i hacked into her blog.

no two people could be more different, really, than ala and i ... on the surface, in temperament. but we have known each other thirty years, and we are the same in all the ways that matter. we have led parallel lives, and there is never a time in all my memory that i can remember when she wasn't there for me.

we're not mushy, we don't say we love each other or hug or (as many of you have fantasized about us doing) twirl each other's hair and look meaningfully into each other's eyes (before a playful pillowfight). but our friendship is bedrock, it is deep, and it is easy and constant and miraculous. it is the saving grace of my life. it is because of her, my compassionate, hilarious, wise, tender, maternal, gorgeous, altruistic, sardonic, beautiful best friend, that i appreciate and understand things as well as i do. because she listens, and because she understands. because she was there for all of it, so i don't even have to explain.

so many memories ... with every emotion attached to them ...i could go on and on. if i need to conjure instant and amused revulsion, for example, i need only think of the summer she ... hung out with ... ugh -- my brother. for happiness, when i called her from the office bathroom to tell her i was pregnant. for hilarity, thinking of her saying (this was twenty five years ago): "he just didn't pay attention!" for tenderness, thinking of sitting with her after she had her first baby. for hedonism, thinking of hanging out drinking with her in december. for comfort, thinking of the phone ringing every day when it's her. for our plotting purposes, thinking of her getting on an extension phone and murmuring, "rose, it is not in the box!" for any happy time in my childhood, for any time i laughed in my adulthood when i would rather be otherwise, i think and think and always, somewhere, she is there.

when we were little we considered each other sisters. sometimes out in public we pretended we were, even though we look and act nothing alike and no one can ever understand how we're such good friends. fast forward thirty years, and we don't have to pretend we're sisters anymore. we are.

happy birthday ala.

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