Semester friends

I arrived at my research methods lecture only to be accosted by two girls that are evidently my best friends. "Remember me?" one asked, "I transfered in from McGill. Weren't we in co-op or something?"

I have no earthly idea.

The other one wanted to know if she could get some sort of exec position on the student union so I gave her a tentative date for the elections. The three of us chattered away about how even this early in the semester we can't stand our political economics prof because you can't understand what the hell he is saying. We're all going for coffee next week.

Ah yes, semester friends.

They're those people that you meet in the first two weeks of classes, spend every waking hour working with and talking to for four months, only dump each other for the people you meet the next semester.

Their adresses are scrawled in your notes.

Their numbers are on speed dial in your phone.

They fill up a special group on msn, a group that you never ever talk to.

And when you pass them in the halls, at first you'll stop to talk a little, then gradually your conversations will turn into mere acknowledgements of each other's presence, and within a year, you just ignore each other. And yet you can't bring yourself to get rid of their conact information.

Oh, semester friendships, how I love thee.