Girl next door
H is my oldest friend. And by that, I mean the friend I’ve known the longest. We met when we were four (but on the year we turned five) and were neighbors, playmates, classmates, schoolbusmates. Eventually we went to different schools so even though we lived next door to each other for years, we barely saw each other. Then we ended up at the same office right after college, and started hanging out again, for payday dinners, beach trips, anti-Valentine’s Days.
She is, by the way, ten kinds of fierce. Stubborn, tough, driven, brutally honest, and by now probably makes as much money when she sneezes as I do in a day. These are things I don’t feel bad about. I enjoy having a friend like her, and have said so to the HR people who call and ask about her character. (She’s made me a reference several times. This is me taking credit for her fab career.)
She is NOT Kimmy, or any other character in Love Your Frenemies, but she’s one of the reasons I enjoyed writing about unapologetically confident and frank people so much.
Tags: love your frenemies