Mary’s on her way over. We’re going to her sister’s surprise party, a party that she’s arranged for herself, apparently.
Her sister’s not my friend, but Mary is.
We’ve known each other for almost 30 years now.
I think we choose our friends based both on traits we see in ourselves and traits we find attractive in others.
Mary, for example, is a hard worker, a genuinely funny person, and honest both with herself and with others.
She is also irreverent, prone to say what everyone’s thinking but wouldn’t dream of making public, and willing to jump in on behalf of the underdog.
When you get Mary, you get all of her – warts and all. And I like my friends’ warts.
They look like mine.