Friday, May 23, 2008

The things we do for friends ...

So, let me tell you about my friend Chrissie.

She is, without a doubt, my best mate.

We moved in together in 2002. We were both entering our second year at uni. I'd lived with three people I'd never met the year before. It didn't end well. Chrissie lived with a couple of girls we'd gone to highschool with, and they also had problems. We met up at the student union at the uni one morning and started talking. She was miserable, I was miserable. We made a joke about living together the next year ... And somehow it happened.

Until then, we'd been friends ... Not great friends, not really close, but just friends. But the next thing I knew, we were looking at places to rent together, and all of a sudden ... We'd moved in together.

From day one, it was right. We're both pretty relaxed. We didn't have a single fight during the year. Chrissie managed to flood our entire unit during the mid-year break, and I almost broke her bed one night. Didn't matter. We never fought about music, or tv, who's turn it was to do the dishes, or having friends over. It was awesome. During that year, we had a great time, and it was nice to not dread going home after uni.

Since we had so much fun the first time around, at the end of the year when it was time to move again, we decided to stick with each other. We moved into a bigger place with another friend from school. Again, we had a great time. And somehow, Chrissie and I went from friends to best mates.

She has been there through everything. It doesn't matter how bad things have been, I've called her. When she moved back to Kerang for a year to help her mum after her dad had a stroke, she'd come down to Bendigo every Wednesday, and we'd hang out. I'd go visit George with her, we'd go see a movie or have lunch, then she'd head back to Kerang. When I left Safeway, at 11 o'clock on a Friday night, she was the first one I called. I was upset and confused, and she was on my doorstep 10 minutes later, listening to me as I poured my heart out. I was there when she went for her first nursing position interview.

She's the one I'd call if I was ever in serious trouble. Calm, rational, never getting flustered. She is an awesome nurse, working on a very difficult ward. My best mate.

Her one weakness?

Mice. Mousies.


So that explains why, at 11:45 tonight, I got a hysterical text message, saying that she'd seen a mouse, and that she was now never getting off the couch, EVER AGAIN.

That also explains why, at midnight, I got dressed, went to Coles, got mousetraps and went to Christines.

Slight snag when I got there though, as she had locked her door, and I couldn't get in. I spent 10 minutes on the doorstep, explaining that no, I couldn't throw the traps through the closed door, or even the closed window, to her.

Finally, I heard her bolt to the front door, unlock it, and bolt back to the couch. By the time I got the door open, she was already back on the couch, standing up, screaming and pointing at where the little critter had been.

So, I searched high and low, moved things this way and that way, looked in front and behind ... And couldn't manage to find the damn thing.

I'm sure he'll come out of hiding when she goes to bed. (Not, as I told Christine, to chew off her nose - and that actually got a scream from her ... Hahaha) Not that she'll go to bed ... My bet is that she'll just sleep on the couch ... :-)

Anyway, it's now after 1 a.m., and I'm stuffed, so I'm going to head to bed. Peace out, and hi to any mousies that might be reading this :-) Hahahaha.

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