old friends

A dear friend of mine, a former roommate - the one who got me hooked on Dallas - is in Toronto for a few days. She's an arts consultant and is working with a program here that helps former dancers resettle into non-dance employment.

KK left New York many years ago, and we've seen each other every some-odd years when our paths cross. She's living in Utah now, and I was so happy to hear she would be in Toronto. Allan and I picked her up at the airport, hung out at our place a little, then had dinner in Mississauga, and drove her downtown to her hotel.

Like my friend AWE who I visited in the spring, I've known KK longer than I've known Allan. KK was the first real friend I made after graduating university. We were roommates for a couple of years, and also close friends. She helped me find the work that became the key to leaving full-time employment and dedicating more time to writing. A friend and colleague of hers was looking for a nanny, and that's how my first Big Life Change began.

I can remember when KK was a new friend, when we had known each other only a short time and were catching up on each other's pasts. Now we go back nearly 25 years. It's a strange feeling, being able to know someone for such a long time - not someone I grew up with, but someone I met in my early 20s.

When I look back on those days - living in Brooklyn, working in the theatre, dating, navigating a new life as an independent adult - it feels like I was a different person entirely. I never imagined what shape my life would take or where it would take me. I like that. I hope I still can't imagine it.

As I get older, I feel more and more that these friendships are the glue that binds us to the world.

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