Figuratively speaking I’m kicking off my heels and pouring a glass of pinot after a long day playing with lingerie. In reality I left my red soles at work and have made the journey down Bourke Street to my new apartment in ballet flats, there’s an open bottle of red in the cupboard but I’m not too sure if it’s still ok to drink. It then dawns on me that for the first time in my life I have a lust-worthy job and a nice apartment. To top it off things couldn’t be better with Mr P.S so why is it that I feel so inclined to order a Saint Michiba pizza and drown my sorrows in rich truffle sauce?
Carrie Bradshaw once said, In the city “You're always looking for a job, a boyfriend, or an apartment."
This is true, however there is one very important thing missing from that equation.
When you move to the city there is no guarantee that you will instantly find friends like Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha…in fact after almost 5 years of living in the big city I can tell you that genuine friendships are hardest thing to come by yet one of the most fundamental rules of survival in the concrete jungle.
I see plenty of wide-eyed girls move to Sydney only to move back home after 6 months. They get caught up in the thrill of it all and fall into the wrong social circles. Weekends are spent making dozens of fabulous faux friends and splurging on lunches at Bondi, Dinners at China Doll and after hour fun at Ivy, Marquee or anyone of the Double Bay hot spots.
The problem with this is…It’s fleeting. Sooner or later your pretty pennies run out and you’re unable to keep up with the lifestyle many Sydneysiders are born accustom to.
BUT if you stay true to yourself – lame but true, you’ll soon attract the perfect group of friends for you.
Back to the Saint Michiba pizza with prosciutto and truffle sauce…
This time last year I was working part-time, dating a string of dickheads and living in the Dirthouse with 3 girls, my best friends. There was ALWAYS something exciting going on, someone to talk to and someone to eat peanut butter cups with at two in the morning.
We were each other’s therapists - “Your boss is an asshole, but you’re GREAT!”
Each others GP’s - “Sounds to me like it could be a UTI and therefore I prescribe a litre of cranberry juice with a vodka chaser.”
And each others inspirations - “If Miss B can end her long term relationship then I can definitely give this wanker up."
A year later and I’m working full-time (the great job) basically living alone (the great apartment) with no games (the good boyfriend) but I still feel like I’m missing something profound.
If you want to get all deep and meaningful about it, they say the psychology behind Sex and the City is that Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda are all indeed facets of Carrie’s personality.
I guess that's exactly what great friends are, a part of you. Great friends are people who bring out the best in you…the extra muscle that gets you through the tough times and the confidence you need to do just about anything.
Since I moved out of the Dirthouse I have been far less social to the point of recluse. I have even convinced myself that my favourite thing to do is watch reality TV with a cup of green jasmine tea. B-O-R-I-N-G!
According to Carrie I've got everything a girl could need in the big city, but right now a massive part of me is missing...
Dirthouse Queens if you see this, I miss you! AND I've got a massive Saint Michiba pizza with prosciutto and truffle sauce with your name on it.
The lesson for you pretty lady: The secret to surviving in the city are in fact your friends, find the right ones and you will be able to overcome anything including poverty, bad dates and UTI's (please also seek the advice of a professional for anything vaginally related).
P x
