17 November - Maxim

You know, friends are those people you can 'not' see for ten years but it hardly matters. Am out with one such person who's good friends with an erstwhile female friend who dropped me in approximately 1996 and so, sort of lost sight of him too.

I tell him I was recently cataloguing my old magazines for the purpose of selling/getting rid of. He bemoans the fact that living in 500sqm, he has had to give up similar collections though for some reasons he's still hanging on to his Q collection. Anyway, I tell him that I found a Blitz with no cover and pages missing and upon reading the index page it appears that pages 21-24 were an article on Boy George. He bursts out laughing and says 'Christina!' (another good friend from back in 1984!). Yes, he's spot on. More laughter. I guess that friends are precious because only they know.

Another friend who's been living abroad now for seven years, tells me that there isn't a day going by where she wants to tell me something or other but doesn't because we don't communicate in such a frequent fashion and without the regular catching up we would have had in London going out or staying in, what she wants to tell me gets forgotten. But she claim it only has value or even exists if she tells me as nobody else where she is, including husband, was 'here' when it happened and with 'those people' it happened with. So sometimes she thinks up a memory and then it's like nothing ever took place as it cannot be made real (again) by me laughing at the story involving us and so and so. Ok, this above is a bit tortuous but you should get my meaning.

I sort of said that give it ten more years and I definitely won't even know who she is...