The Lost Art Of Friend Keeping

I was recently thinking about friendships and I came across an article in Women's Health which was quite apropos. It stated that because of things like Facebook, our generation no longer has real friends but acquaintances. Thinking of your "friend" list on FB how many can you say are REALLY your friend? Maybe 5? And even that may be too high nowadays. Or as Women's Health puts it, "How many of the friends hanging around in your feed would you bother to ask to brunch?". Even if we do have those 5, we often neglect them. There used to be a time when your only option was to pick up the phone to see how someone was doing. Or have someone over for coffee to just shoot the shit and gossip about the other girls. Everything's so impersonal now.

Forget the fact the we have so few real friends. My bigger concern is the neglecting part. The times when you don't see your supposed friend for 3 months and she lives in the same borough. Oh, you were just going to give me the 'I'm so busy' excuse? Yeah, I thought you were. We say that all the time. That we're too busy. But unless you're working until 9pm every single day, there's no way you can't carve out 2 hours of your time to have dinner or a drink. We've become a culture where we make room for our friends when it suits us, when they're useful for a time until we get bored of them or find something better. Now, I'm not saying that's everyone, but there seems to be a lot of this from what I've observed. Also, I'm not talking about the flaker. You know, that person who you never really rely on because they always cancel on you last minute or take two days to answer your text. That person, bless their heart, was made like that. You just have to work around their weakness.

I'm talking about the person who is attached to you (for about 2-6 months), who you go to dinners with and happy hours and is always free to do things, and then slowly disappears. And then reappears when it's convenient for her or him (some boys do this too!). She's bored or she broke up with her boyfriend. That one is the worst--the disappearing girlfriend act. We know, you're in love and you want to spend every waking moment with this person, so you stop going to happy hours and start becoming a craft beer expert (because that's the only thing your boo drinks) and are always too tired or busy to do anything--but then it ends. And you text your friend, "drinks tonight?". And she doesn't respond until tomorrow because she found someone new to have drinks with. Because you left her on her own and it's no fault of hers if you were the one who disappeared. And Women's Health makes a good point "when a great romantic date ends you'd never say, 'we should do it again sometime", and then let it go for three months. Why don't your girlfriends get that same courtesy?"

The older I become the more I realize that you need to hold on to the few real friends you have. We don't have the luxury of meeting new people like we did in College so why not make sure that the bonds you do have are fully strengthened. What people don't understand, and I've tried to explain it to a few who get married and then disappear, is that you got married. You're not 85 years old and bedridden. You don't have kids to look after. You have now locked that guy down and will get to see him for the next 50 years. You should go out with your friends as much as possible because once you have kids, it's all over. No one will ever see you again. They will have to come to you. And chances are you'll be trying to catch up over Sesame Street and Goldfish crackers and dirty diapers instead of over Cosmos and the creepy middle-aged man buying your group drinks at the local bar.

There's No Place Like Home...I Think

It's 4am and I am currently sitting on my tiny island (my bed) waiting to hear the sounds of an unwelcomed mouse (or mice)some where in my wall. This is what has become of my life: waiting for daybreak when it is safe to finally sleep. My house, which used to be my refuge, has now become my nightmare. And if you've ever been alone and had the pleasure of being startled awake by scratching in the wall, you know how I feel. My summer vacation has been wasted by running away from my house to avoid the mice and untanable 79 degree weather.

This is not the first of my house woes nor do I believe it to be my last. I have been cursed with apartment afflictions ever since I moved out of my moms. That's not looking so bad now....

There was the rape tunnel apartment in the side alley of a building. Looking back I wonder why I thought it was a good idea to live there and also, how my mother LET me live there. That lasted 8 months. Mostly because I was terrified that someone was always trying to kill me in my isolated ground floor hovel and partly because a bum moved into the alleyway right outside my door and I feared he would return. I think the mafia took care of that one for me though...

Then there was the major apartment upgrade in Spanish Harlem that seemed too good to be true. Kids, if it seems too good to be true, it most definitely is, so run the other way. Fast. New appliances, balcony, laundry in your apartment, gym in the basement, doorman....Yes doorman, who drunk-dialed me from the lobby one night to profess his love to me. That wasn't even the worst of that place. Leaky ceilings, shady landlord, crazy roommates, and some other shenanigans and memories that will last me a lifetime. I could write a book about that building. We will save it for another time.

Now there's this place. I thought I was away from the craziness and drama. That lasted about 6 months. Aside from the inconsiderate neighbors, who wear heels at 1am and walk like baby dinosaurs, I now have mice in the neighborhood who make a frequent visit to my wall. Tonight, I was also greeted by a very large skunk who had no problem coming right up to my door. The only upside is that little bugger (who I've named Bull) eats mice so that problem will soon be gone. Then, what to do about that skunk...

I can't win. And what I find interesting is that I am so careful when it comes to picking apartments! I look and look and make sure everything's right. And I still get the fuzzy end of the lollipop! I don't know what it is. Hopefully this will be the last one, the third of the triad. Bad things come in threes, right?