Friday, 24 September 2010

Paul, meet Paul...

When I was talking to Pippa last night, she said, "Ah, so Paul's helping you move eh? He's always helping you out, that boy. What a good friend!"

Spot on, I thought. He sure was helping me out again, with all the big stuff - the desk, the bookshelves, the dining table. His big car and my big stuff...

We chatted for an hour when he arrived. Sweeney. Laura. Japan. New flats. Clare and Woody. It was lovely. Outwardly, you could say Paul's changed a lot in the last few years. More rugby, more boozey, less vocal on green issues, less shy. Actually though, he isn't really that different. Still gently funny. Still a good one.

Once we'd shifted Mikhail and Billy, Old Friend Paul, New Housenmate Paul, Emily and I all went to the Hilary Step for a quick pint. Paul M proceeded to tell Paul O and Emily all about different things I'd done in the past. Silly, boozy things. But it was good, it was nice: the epitome of the idea that you learn a lot about a man from his friends, by the company he keeps.

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