Back to the point, yet another friend has commented that there is no mention of him. My greatest friends I can count on one hand and I have to say that he is one of them. Now, he did prove that he hasn't read all of this blog (not a criticism I know wading through all this crack talk is a big job!) because there is a very obscure reference to him in the post I published yesterday. Because he has specifically asked for a mention I feel like the most appropriate way of discussing him is to explain how we met. It was through my first 'real' job which is funny because I always wanted to write a book about my first couple of jobs. I guess its because it is all so new but I found the whole situation fascinating.
To set the scene: I am from a little town. When you finish school in a little town like the one I am from you have only a few options - 1. Have kids, 2. Become an engineer or 3. Leave as fast as you can before you end up with one of the other options! No offense to my little town, I love it to this day and treasure the childhood I had there but kids? Engineering? No not really for me at that stage (scarily more appealing now despite my best efforts to the contrary... minus the engineering that is). So I left. I moved to the big smoke to seek my fame and fortune, or at the very least a degree which would get me a job. Those of you who know me, know that the degree is very much still a work in progress, one of the joys of indecision. Brisbane, although bigger than my home town, really isn't that much of a step up but I did get a job working in an Italian restaurant (as the dish washer). The owner was a crazy guy called Jose (pronounced 'hose-ay!') who I could talk about forever if I had more time. Absolutely a story for another day! The kitchen consisted of myself, three chefs who alternated shifts and some waitresses who zoomed in and out delivering food etc. After dinner service, the chefs would go home and I would proceed to clean up the kitchen. I have to say it was my favorite time because I would be left to my own devices with the radio going and I could just tune out and sing as loud as I wanted to on the little stage in my mind. That is where I met Matt.
Matt was one of the owners friends. Classic coffee addict. I don't think I ever saw him eat anything at the restaurant but he drank coffee and chatted to Jose. Occasionally he would come and harass me in the kitchen. Turns out that Matt is a pretty motivated dude. For the last four years (don't trust my math it could be longer than that) he has ground himself into the ground to produce some software which hopefully he will release in the new year. After Jose sold the restaurant (mainly to escape the stress and grow back the hair he lost) we stayed friends. Every week just about Jose, Matt and I would go to our regular cafe (which I won't mention because it wasn't that good to be completely honest) and drink coffee. I don't know how many times I would use them as an excuse to procrastinate when I had an assignment to work on. In fact I think it is logical to blame them at least in part for the excruciatingly dragged out time it has taken for me to get this far in my studies. We would go through every aspect of my life. Mostly the prospective boyfriend was analysed and screened (without their knowledge of course) by these two men, who gave me advice (wanted or not) and they then councelled me after the inevitable break-up. Seriously, as friends go, these guys know me, bad and good! The only person who knows more is Darian!
So the day is over now and I need to go home. I hope I have cleared up the misunderstanding my friends have developed thinking if I don't write about them I don't care about them. I do care about you all. Trust me I would not be the same person without you!