Happy Birthday Alan

Every girl should be so lucky to have a friend like him. We used to work together and he was one of my first friends 13 years ago when I was new to LA. He’s married to the superfoxy Jennifer, who became one of my good friends too. Because she didn’t mind a bit when Alan and I went to lunch, or to movies or Costco or Pottery Barn at lunch, I vowed to be that kind of partner. See how fab they are.

When I finally found my perfect apartment he helped me move over lunch. There was an expensive jacket at Banana Republic he knew I wanted, saw it get marked down, and put it on hold for me. He worked late to help me put my portfolio together so I could work as a writer. Years ago he patiently took dozens of photos of me when I wanted to put an ad online. I even borrowed a shirt and jewelry of Jen’s, she dresses much better than me. And damn her, she never takes a bad photo.

I’d like to think I’ve learned a lot from his friendship. He was one of the first people to admit to me that relationships aren’t easy. Gasp. As I complained about each and every dork I dated, it was obvious that perhaps just maybe I had overreacted, or taken something too personal. And god knows, he heard it all. The good, the bad and the fucking ridiculous. There’s just something special about a guy friend, and getting a guys point of view. He can say things your girlfriends shouldn’t, and it seems perfectly ok. More honest yes, but more educational for the long haul.

Two days ago a bunch of Alan’s friends and family got together for his birthday. There was lots of wine and lots of love. For a guy that happily does so much for everyone he knows, he’s a one-of-a-kind friend.