Princesses United

See, there have always been two parts to being a journalist. Part One, I'm reeeeeeallly freakin' good at, cos part one is finding out interesting stuff, and knowing it. Part two...the whole bit about telling anyone the stuff you know....nnnnotsomuch.

This came home to me tonight, when, with d and I having lived in this city together for seven years, and my having known Brenda (you remember Brenda? She's a really cool pal of mine who works on the same floor - I've blogged about her before) for four or five or possibly even stretching back to six, I finally got them together in a room.

See - I've known d is wonderful, and I've known Brenda's wonderful, and I've known that, if I got them together, it'd be love at first words...I just haven't particularly told either of them fact three in this list. Wellll, I sort of have, but the pace of metropolitan living kinda washes words away in the checking off of Stuff To Do. When I got them together tonight (well, I say I did this, I only half did it really, Brenda and I determined to do it, dammit, to finally stop the flow of Stuff and turn our friendship into a proper couple-thing), it was magical. We went to Strada on High Street Kensington.

Can't honestly remember if I've told you about this before. But anyone who remembers the Paradiso Lost post, about the place we were going to hold our wedding reception, will remember that at the last minute (or rather, with ten days to go!), we turned our back on Paradiso, and went somewhere else entirely. Where we went was Strada in Richmond. We didn't even know it was part of a chain, we were so blown away by the food, the welcome, the space above the restaurant. And we had a fantastic reception. It was only later that we realised there were Stradas everywhere, and since I work in Kensington, the HSK branch has long been a local favourite for us, so tonight ticked one more slightly sad memory off our Farewell Tour list. But mostly, it was fantastic to enjoy Brenda's company outside of work, to finally meet Gerry, her bloke (whose existence, and life and progress in my friend's affections into the pride of place in her life, I've charted excitedly over meetings in corridors and halls and occasionally in doorways and lifts), and to see d and Brenda enjoy each other's company and stories.

See, you'll have heard of gaydar - the instinctive recognition of same. What no-one tells you is there's a similar recognition between comfy couples. Couples who are happy and comfy and funny together, as long as they share a wavelength, will know other couples who are happy and comfy and funny together. And stick a couple of them together, and what you get is the kind of evening that frustrates the bejeesus out of waiters, as the talk overtakes the eating, and you only tear yourself away eventually cos you have to get up in the morning and go to freaking Nottingham.

In a way, I feel kind of guilty about introducing d to these truly fabulous people now. It's sort of compounding an issue she's feeling already. She's made some great friendships while she's been here in London. Yuen, and 'DQ' and a couple of others (not including Tig of course, with whom she was friends before she got here). But recently, very recently, she's gained a really great pal in Caroline, and there's a kind of kick-in-the-teethness about having discovered her now, and thennnnn buggering off. I feel pretty much like a pantomime villain, carring Rapunzel off to a Valley-shaped tower just when she's found, if not her prince, then at least a really cool Princess she can hang out with, swapping Princess stories of balls and Princes and frogs and incompetent fairy godmothers and the like.

And tonight, I reckon she found another Princess. Well, I know she did, cos I know Brenda's quality. But when we parted, d whispered "Wow, she's just like Annie..." - which, short of "Wow, she's just like Lori" is the highest praise she can give. Of course, they say 'better late than never', and I'm pretty much sure that these two will now form bonds of their own, without the necessity of me as a bridge, and we as a foursome will go forward, with visits and Skyping and suchlike fun. But still, feels like I should shake a fist at the audience, stroke a comedy beard and cackle "Bwahahahahaaaa..." as I fling d over my shoulder and drag her home to Wales.

Oh...and a sidenote, for those who are wondering about the ongoing career of our Chinese woman - of whom I happen to know there are a few - we came home tonight to find the lid of our garbage bin flung open and boxes flung hither...and possibly even yon...in our front garden. So - we either have pretty musclebound urban foxes, or that cheeky bint is scavenging for more bags and rucksacks and bloody wardrobes. I'm thinking of setting traps tomorrow, just to see what we can catch. Hey - it's still a while till payday, and it brings out the Urban Trapper in me. May have to dig my Davy Crockett cap out of a box, just to get into the swing of it.

But for now, have to crawl into my couch. Nottingham ho, my liege!