For a good portion of the last few years at my job, I’ve had the great pleasure of sitting next to my friend, Claudine. On July 3, I shall bid her a fond farewell, as she moves on to the greener pastures of the intertubes. And I shall miss both her company and her skillful and très amusant banter.
No longer will I be able to pepper my constant chattering with bon mots en français with the assurance that at least one person will not need them translated; nor will I have a reliable source for updates on all the latest goings-on in the center of the known universe, New York.
No more will I hear her constant trumpeting of her attendance at Smith College. (“Hey Claudine, I like your cute shoes!”; “Thanks – did you know I went to Smith?”). And we will likely never resolve our ongoing debate: is she a Carrie or a Miranda?
Finally, and perhaps most dishearteningly, my pool of friends and colleagues who regularly laugh at my jokes, be they sophisticated or sophomoric (the jokes, that is, not the friends and colleagues…), will be reduced by one.
Bonne chance, ma petite amie! Tu me manqueras…