![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY15VSo9XYioVc6SfiyQ5TzwAi2GjxKyjdOiMQ7UCaQbPWFqSt_jrv9M2kpL8xflqSmPBvH7Djd_an2g54pzHkAPfGLF-0epD9_7tRolLZ036UNkns2aSVeLKuh76AP9QoF_Og2x6mWxY/s1600/sonia-rykiel-fall-2011-19.png)
Photo: Sonia Rykiel fall 2011, courtesy of The Cherry Blossom Girl
I spent a long while today making a present for a friend's birthday today. Patti Smith was my soundtrack to my labours, an album recommended to me by a friend. There wasn't anyone else in the room while my oil pastel smudged fingers shaded the various areas of the page, but I was still unwittingly surrounded by their influence.
I was having a discussion earlier about whether friends are worth it. He was saying that he doubted he'd keep in touch with anyone when he moved on to university in September. Maybe one, maybe two, but he wouldn't really make that much of an effort to try and retain the closeness that he'd built up over the past seven years. I wondered if I was an exception to this rule, or if I were just another person who was an annoyance in his day to day life.
To me, friends are inextricable from me. So what if sometimes they're annoying? They are integral to my progression, they make me happy, they make me sad, they anger me, and I've cried myself to sleep over them. Songs remind me of them, and my walls are littered with photos of us.
The photo below was sent to me by one. I have no idea where it's from. All I know is that it's saved as "me and jo". I think that's all I really need to know about it.