Last Saturday, I spent some quality time with a few old friends.

First, and most importantly, I saw a great friend of mine that I have known since the first day of college, whom I will call Alice. Over the past ten years, Alice has played many roles in my life: sister, confidante, mirror, and most recently, matron of honor. For most of the past year, our lives have been spooling out into different patterns, and we haven’t been able to spend much time together. Just as she has become consumed by her career, I have become consumed by my family, leaving neither of us much room to cultivate long-distance friendships. But a few weeks ago, we both came to the decision that this simply would not do, and finally made concrete plans to see each other. It’s amazing how easily it can all come together after months of missed connections.

We met up in San Francisco, at a huge multi-story shopping mall that promised us a movie theater somewhere within its coils of consumerism. Granted, it took us all the brain power garnered by our collective twelve years of college and post-graduate education to find said theater, but we found it at last. Once there, we forked over our ten dollars and twenty-five cents (for a matinee, no less!) to see another group of old friends: Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte. We may have been some of the last people to jump on the bandwagon, but it was fitting to have waited so long, since it meant we could see the movie together.

Sad to say, hearing the opening theme song really was like coming home, heightened of course by each other’s presence and the memory of hearing that same song together many, many times over the years. When we were twenty-one, Alice and I lived together for a quarter in Washington, DC, doing internships and living it up in the capital city. This was the one and only season of Sex and the City that I actually watched on the television, as the building we lived in got HBO along with every other cable channel you could possibly want. Every week, a bunch of us would gather around the TV religiously to watch our Sexy friends get themselves in trouble, and when we came back to Santa Cruz, we relied on the DVDs of previous seasons to provide us with a lifeline back to that exciting time of politics and the “real world.”

Seven years later, both of our lives are very different. We are both married now, with homes and lives and big obligations to fulfill. But for those two and a half hours, and for those of our leisurely, wine-filled (and often tearful) dinner afterwards, we were just two girls again, trying to figure it all out, leaning on each other for support, perspective, and validation. We have looked to each other for those things for ten years now, and although our lives might get in the way sometimes, we always come back to being old friends.

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