This is me and Rabia.

This month I was in the most fortunate position to get to help Rabia celebrate her thirty-somethingth birthday. I hesitate to say exactly which birthday this was because, well, I can’t remember. It doesn’t help matters at all that when I called her on what I was SURE was her actual birthday, she, in her ultimately sweetest Rabia way, reminded me that her birthday was indeed THE NEXT DAY. I guess if there is any consolation at all in this pathetic story, it is that 2 other friends made the same mistake. So there.

Rabia and I have known each other for going-on 10 years now, and I can honestly say that I have not met a single person that didn’t find her downright awesome. She is goofy and charming, and just an all around genuinely likeable person. We have had more than our fair share of good times together — usually involving food and wine and dancing. Disco dancing, to be exact. Rabia is a great listener, she laughs at my jokes and is just one of those friends that you never want to be without.

She currently resides in Sebastopol — the wine country version of Arcata — where she is a bona-fide esthetician at a fancy-pants spa. Due to crazy schedules (Rabia, since I have known her, has always had a MINIMUM of two jobs at any given time), and the fact that we live over 4 hours drive from one another, we don’t get to spend nearly the time together that we would like. But, when we do, it is like no time has passed at all. It is so comforting for me to know that after 10 years, the two things you can still find in Rabia’s purse are a bottle of lavendar aeromatherapy face mist, and a tin of obscure breath mints. It’s like going home again.

Happy Birthday, Miss Rab, you are truly, a friend for the ages.