Dear Greta,
So thats you, me and Maddy King from that Vegan Festival. I actually found it the other day and thought two things a) damn I wish I could get away with not wearing a bra these days and b) fuck I love Greta's outfit. That brings me to your letter, you know, the letter where you mention the Vegan Festival?
I'm gonna be honest, our lives aren't going to turn out as we planned the other night. Sometimes I'm clever, but I don't really think I'm clever enough to exactly pinpoint when you are going to meet your dream man, where you are going travel to and when, when you'll have a baby, when your first book will come out or when you'll become a success. But I know it'll happen. And then, the bloody letter. The letter that didn't make my cry of crying (what?) but instead made me cry of all of the laughs in the world.
I don't remember the first time we met either but I remember the first time that counts. I just tried to look up the date to make this story telling seem a little more impressive but I couldn't find it anywhere. I've narrowed it down - it was either Monday the 21st of June, 2003 or Saturday the 26th of June, 2003. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was released on the 21st, but I figure we were probably at school that day so it is more likely the we attended a reading of the first chapter at good old Cosmos bookstore on the morning of the 26th.
Anyway, we were in grade three and I'd just moved from my first primary school where I'd been kind of really bullied, I'd been at the new school for two terms-ish apparently and had made friends, but they weren't really the kind of friends I had wanted to make. I thought they were a bit mean.
Dad knew that Harry Potter meant a lot to me so he took me too the reading, I thought that I'd sit with him and I would be okay. But we got to the store and the accepted rule was that us kids sat on the floor with our friends while parents stood and watched. But I didn't have any friends and I was so shy and nervous about sitting by myself.
I ended up sitting slightly to the right of you and Brittany but still kind of parallel. I saw you guys and was so glad you didn't see me, I thought you were super cool and that you were going to be mean to me for sitting by myself, I mean, thats what I'd been used to. I put my head down and started tearing up a little bit before sort of regaining myself. I tried to sneak a look at you and Britt to make sure you hadn't noticed me and we made eye contact. But you guys had seen me, and you motioned for me to come and sit with you.
I tried not to smile too much but I was so excited. I think it was the first time in my life I ever teared up because I was happy.
Dad asked me afterwards if you guys were friends from school and I got to say yes.
My point is that you may have thought that I was cool and whatever, but I definitely wasn't before I made friends with all of you. You guys let me become my happy, anecdote telling, kinda weird but pretty prime (if I do say so myself trolol) self.
Grets - these letters you're writing, these are your book. These are something that you could put together for your whole life and have published posthumously (oops getting morbid but that'll be like a thousand years from now) and uh it'd just be so good.
To me, you are being the eighteen-year-old girl/lady/woman I thought I would be and am still trying to be. Firstly, you moved to Italy. Second, you're all by yourself out there growing up and its so cool!!!!!! (I know I usually say that all the exclamation marks after the third one don't count for anything but in this case they do). Thirdly, you are doing things your way and the world will reward you for it, and that is neat.
I think I'm going to try and bring neat back.
Last but not least, you are this beacon of style. You always look so good and you can do makeup and I just can't and I want you to teach me. If you asked our other friends how many times they've heard me say I just want Greta to buy me a new wardrobe they'd probably sigh, maybe perform a bit of an eye roll because they've heard it too many times before.
I am so, so jealous of you and your bravery. I'm also jealous of your sentence structure, I feel like your letter was really well crafted.
I've rambled for long enough, but, like Alexa Vega, you are a tough chic, who, if writing a movie about your life, would not only star in it (because no one can be you except you) but also perform all your own stunts.
Love you,
Tish x
P.S Yeah, we were pretty competitive.
Greta blogs at scout+dally.
