#MeetBecky

Becky has been a huge part of my adventure but I realised she has yet to feature in my diary because we always do casual things. We met at Sandbar, the restaurant I waitress at, otherwise known as hell! We have a rule in the flat that we don’t talk about SB, it’s like mentioning Voldemort and when you step into the cafe it’s like dementors are sucking your soul out of your face until all that’s left is feelings of misery and sadness. It does have a pleasant sea view though so..swings and roundabouts!

But back to Becky.
(Play dramatic romantic music in your head. Think American presidential speech but without Trump ruining the vibes. Think of Obama’s speeches and Britain’s got talent during a sob story...)

Our romance began when we bonded over the correct pronunciation of the word aubergine in a heated debate with some Australian girls at work (They say or-bergine...rolls eyes). We didn’t know then that our love would flourish into a

relationship that genuinely made her boyfriend and others question our sexualities.

It started small, a chat at work, an English joke...mainly sarcasm and insults and then one day.
“I don’t have any friends! Will you be friends with me?”
“Me neither! Yes!”
And that was the start. But alas, I had to leave. I was going to New Zealand and then Melbourne so how would our friendship grow?

But then huzzah! I came back and thus began banana bread Thursday’s! (On Thursdays we eat banana bread) and our love grew stronger still!

We bonded over cute dogs, Instagram food and most importantly, English things ..like the correct way to butter a scone. Always jam then cream! She took me from a 4 to a solid 9.5 (10 would be arrogant) when she did my make up for Vanessa’s boat party, we laughed together watching chick flicks and at children falling at the beach.

My diary wouldn’t be complete without a montage of romantic photographs of us on girl dates so behold... my dedication to Sandbar Becky (because that’s her name in my phone book)