Cringe. What has the world come to? This is not going to be an ode to Taylor and her gaggle of powerful friends. My goal is just to get my squad in the same place at the same time.
We all got together twice this year. It doesn’t seem like much but it’s an impressive achievement considering our geographic spread and assorted time commitments. When we do rarely get to see each other, I’m struck by how easy it is. There’s no hesitation, no testing the water, it’s as though we were briefly interrupted by a waiter bringing a coffee rather than six months. “Now where were we…” It’s lovely and comfortable and fun. It also gives a lot of perspective.
The initial conversations are frantic and excited. We talk over each other, screeching and cackling, we’re very much that annoying group of women everyone hates to sit near in restaurants. We settle down into old habits, we talk about work and relationships, and what we’re going to be when we grow up. Just like old times. We’ve all known each other since high school so it’s easy (and fun) to regress a little. Then something comes up that reminds us all we’re not 16 anymore. We talk about house prices and rent, the cost of living in different cities, politics, and travel. And suddenly we’re grown up. How did that happen?
We’re in the midst of organising our next weekend trip, the first of 2016. Also the first since two of us got engaged (not to each other, kind of unfortunately…), one of us bought a house and one of us quit her 9-5 job. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. We did the same thing early this year, a weekend away in Sydney, and I’m hoping it can be at the very least an annual thing. I love my girls, my squad as Taylor Swift might put it (or has she trademarked that word already?). Despite the fact that we pretty much live in each other’s pockets via Facebook, Snapchat, WhatsApp and any other myriad of technology, it’s not the same as being there in person.
My Mum and her friends, some of them she’s known since they were kids, catch up at least once a month. They go for drinks or dinner or gather at each other’s houses or go away for a weekend. They shriek and giggle and drink wine and talk about relationships and their kids and politics. They listen to music and dance badly and generally cause a ruckus. Mum and her harem are pretty inspirational to me in terms of female friendship. Inspirational may be a little strong considering the way they dance after a few bottles of wine… (A surprising amount of fist-pumping and an upsetting amount of hip-swivelling). But they all make the effort to get together whenever they can and just enjoy each other’s company. I hope that in 100 years’ time (sorry, Mum, couldn’t resist), that my girls and I are the same.
One final note, I concede that I have failed miserably at my self-imposed blogging challenging. The benefit of hindsight reveals that perhaps this time of year isn’t the best time to start a daily blogging challenge. Christmas madness, prepping for a Euro trip and a looming confirmation of candidature seminar all take up a lot of time but unfortunately are not good blog fodder. I’ll be a little more realistic and aim for once or twice a week. Hopefully I’ll have plenty of time when we’re travelling. Eish, I can hear hindsight chuckling already!