The economy can take my money, but not my friends.

Back in the day – I am talking way back [high school back!!]- I made a friend named Lili [name not changed because I didn't think she would mind me openly discussing her awesomeness.  Lili, do you mind?  Too bad, if you do]. 

We started off on the wrong foot.  My 9th grade bestie hated Lili on account of a boy, and me being the independent, free-thinking woman that I am, decided that I too would hate Lili – because, you know – umm, just because [Kids!!].  The hatred had abated by the end of the year [although not before 9th grade bestie defaced Lili's photo in my yearbook] but by that point, both Liliand I were comfortably enmeshed in our respective nerd circles and were not interested in friendship with outsiders.

It was not until our senior year of high school, and a painfully difficult Physics class that Lili and I became friends. One day we were awkwardly in the same lab group [disproving all of Newton's theories incidentally*]  and the next we had deciding we would never again attend another lab [or much of the rest of High School, as it turned out], opting instead to attend pool parties. 

It just so happened that after high school, both of us headed to Western Massachusettes for college, which made it easier for us to continue what had started.

Over the course of the last fifteen years [FIFTEEN!!], Liliand I have been through some serious shit together.  High school prom for one!!! The death of parents and classmates.  Lili’s decision to defy logic and marry a guy she had known for all of like, two minutes [while we were still in college no less]**.  My constant boy/friend drama.  Thousand and thousands of miles between us.  I once even spilled an ENTIRE large coffee coolata from Dunkin’ Donuts in her car.  And still, here we are!

Lili has for a long time been, and will likely always remain in my top 5 of all time people I know.  But this past week, after having gotten to spend an entire week with her [she lives in Vermont, and I obviously, not in Vermont], it dawned on my just how damn much I miss her.  And she has not even left yet!!  And of course, missing Lili makes me think of all my other friends not in Los Angeles who I miss terribly.  And it all makes me very sad.  But it is an oddly happy sad.  Sure, some [most?] of my favorite peeps have left Los Angeles, but how lucky am I to have so many amazing people in my life?

Very lucky.  That is the answer. 

* but only because we were doing the lab wrong.  Whoops!

**  it worked out quite well.  She is super happily married. 

Weekend, in no particular order.

Sunday Afternoon:: Wearing an absolutely adorable, newly purchased dress, I found myself at a baby shower Sunday morning. There I was, sandwiched between a bevy of women who were just like me [or so an outsider might conclude] and yet, completely not like me at all. As they talked about rubbing butt cream on their babies’ behinds and how since baby was born, their marriages have been lacking in sex, I was thinking about how much I drank the night before, trying to recall if I did anything I need to apologize for, wondering whether the boy I was talking to was actually cute, etc.

As it dawned on my how different I was from Them, I started to freak out a bit. Maybe I should stop being so much like me and more like those women, I thought. Maybe I ought to date one of those guys my whole family is constantly trying to set me up with and get on the road to marriage and baby and sexless days and nights, I considered. Was I a bad person/friend for having at that moment written off the friend whose baby shower I was attending because I don’t much like baby people, I wondered.

But then I noticed there were cupcakes. And I felt okay again.

Friday night:: As I boarded an airplane at LAX , I was pleased to see several dozen people gathered around the television screens in an attempt to watch the presidential debate. It didn’t even bother me so much that several people were nodding disapprovingly every time Obama spoke. I was just happy that people actually seem to care about this election.

Later Friday Night:: Four hours, three new table friends, two tequila shots and one horribly played poker hand later, I was one hundred dollars poorer.

Saturday Afternoon:: Spent some quality time at the pool attempting to improve upon the tan I gained last weekend. Ended up with a slight burn. Lesson:: Don’t be greedy.

Sunday Night:: Mental order restored. I don’t want to be tied down with child. I want to bounding around Knott’s Scary Farm with my friends, reenacting seventh grade. Which is exactly what I was doing.

When small things turn into big issues.

My friend, A.M., has been dating a guy for about a month now. The last few times I have spoken to her, she was very enthusiastic about the state of the relationship [not unusual as she is typically wild about all new boys - for about a fortnight- and then not so much]. So enthusiastic, in fact, that she had not been engaging in any sexy bed time action with said boy in an effort to project herself as being sexually unattainable, and therefor more desirable. [Aside:: Really? I have certainly heard of such a thing, but is having sex with someone really the kiss of death in a budding relationship? Seems dumb. Like, really dumb].

Below is a PG-13ified version of the conversation I have with A.M. last night::

Diet Coke:: So, what is up with the new fella you have been (not) boinking?
A.M:: It is so over.
Diet Coke:: Oh noes! Did the pretending not to be a slut backfire?
A.M:: He and I were hooking up the other night and I discovered that his Business is really really small.
Diet Coke:: Shut up, it can’t be THAT small.
A.M:: No, seriously. It is THAT small.
Diet Coke:: So you just aren’t going to see him anymore?
A.M:: Yup.
Diet Coke:: But weren’t you really into him?
A.M:: Yeah, but D.C., it was REALLY REALLY small. Like, unemployable small.
Diet Coke:: Damn.

All this got me thinking, Carrie Bradshaw style.

Is it totally reprehensible to dump a guy because his package is the size a single serving Crystal Light pack? [I think no]

Doesn’t this all mean that you should have sex with a guy BEFORE you decide you like him? [I think maybe] After all, it seems that prolonged abstinence can only lead to either 1) a broken heart upon discovery of your objects physical deformity, or 2) if the sex happens to be good, several missed week of good sex. [And let's face it, you may not be dating this person for very long so any possible weeks of good sex needs to be taken advantage of].

If I were in such a situation, would my earlier truth proclamation require me to share with said guy that I was dumping him because of his inadequacy or does a lie in this circumstance solidly fall into some “lie for the sake of human decency exemption”? [I think the latter].

So many questions, so little time.

I get by with a little help.

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe

I had agreed several weeks ago to join a few of my closest friends to go see a Beatles cover band known as the Fab 4. I like the Beatles as much as the next person. Assuming the next person is a passive Beatles “fan.” And further assuming that “fan” means having their number one hits records and being able to sing along to the chorus of their songs on the radio. But interest in going to see a bunch of forty something year old men PRETEND to be the Beatles? Not so much. Still I agreed to go, mostly just because my friends are awesome and I like to hang out with them. Well, that and promises of alcohol.

When we arrived at the show, I was less than enthused. First of all, the venue was this wacky supper club type place called the “Canyon Club.” Think pirates of the Caribbean meets an opium den. And if that wasn’t bad enough – and trust me, it was pretty effing bad – the place is in Augora Hills, which it turns out is one of those far away places that need not be visited. Ever.

When the show started, my morale plummeted even further. As I watched four men prance around the stage in bowl cut wigs signing Can’t Buy Me Love the thought “what the hell am I doing here?” ran through my mind quite a few times. But then, somewhere between Hard Days Night and Yesterday, something changed. Probably, it had a lot to do with the fact that I was two vodka and soda’s deep. More so, though, I think it was just the infectious (in a good way) nature of Beatles songs. You basically have to be a terrorist or a vegan not to like them. Once I got past the absurdity of watching a band pretend to be another band, fake accents and all, I could almost imagine that I was hearing the Beatles live, or at could understand what it must have been like to have had that opportunity.

Pretty awesome I imagine.

And I can’t lie, when they played With a Little Help From my Friends, I got a little choked up. I’ve been talking a lot about Evil Troll and how awful a person she turned out to be. But what I should be talking about is my true and dear friends who are so wonderful and who I really love. And who really do help me get by. So to all of those friends, near and far, (most of whom who will never read this because they don’t know that it exists and the two that will read it) – thank you.

And finally, I am very curious how it must be to be the fake Ringo in a fake Beatles band.

Making things up.

Beginning back in my college days I had a friend with whom I had a very special connection. We were friends in real life too, but mostly we just liked to email each other long, often hilarious, and sometimes inane opuses (opi?) about everything and nothing. Once I started law school, we slowly fell out of touch because 1) that is what happens with the passage of time and 2) he had a really contentious relationship with this girl who I was friends with which made my friendship with him strained. His name (real name) was Lucas Garcia. There are probably a billion such Lucas Garcia named men out there, but if one day you – the Lucas Garcia of United States Naval Academy fame – google stalk yourself and come upon this, email me. I am curious to know how you are. And if you are still alive.

I bring Lucas up because he and I used to have these long (like trillions of words exchanged) conversations about life, love, death, humor, fear, etc. One time we were talking about words, how they take hold and gain popularity and become part of life. We decided to make up our own word. The word: Dafic. The meaning: One of those types of conversations/experiences that makes you think you just discovered something amazing or unlocked one of life’s many mysteries, even if briefly.

I love that word. I am sad that no one uses it.

I also think there are two other words that need to be added to the English vernacular.

First:: Something representing a conversation that has taken place over email. I nominate eversation.

Second:: Amn’t. As in “am not.”

Past. Present. Future.

I know, I know. I’ve totally fallen off of the blog wagon. But fear not dear readers, but I am back. My absence is due in large part to the fact that my life for about a week and a half had turned into a total ruckus mess. Things are ever so slowly getting back on track.

Here is a brief synopsis of what has gone down:

1. The Evil Troll has sort of moved out. In what is (hopefully) her final indication of insanity, bitchery and bad judgment, she had a New Roomie move in without telling me. I met New Roomie (AFTER she had moved in!!) briefly before I was leaving the house last night. Which leads to me the following conclusions:

a) new roomie is a nut job for being willing to move into a house with a person whom she has not met.

b) Evil Troll is as bad a person as I had previously thought.

2. New roomie seems nice enough. A little bit on the not so bright side, a little strange, and way young, but nice enough just the same. HOWEVER, she seems to be dog sitting Evil Troll’s dog while Evil Troll is out of town this week which is strange because a) they don’t know each other and b) umm, they don’t know each other. Why would you entrust your dog to a total stranger? And why would a total stranger take responsibility for your dog? I have no effing idea. Also, while we are on the topic of dog, New Roomie’s dog left a poop on the carpet today, which better not be there when I return home.

3. Items 1 and 2 above have both caused a great deal of stress in my life, but I am happy that Evil Troll is nearly gone (even though all of her personal belongings are still in my house for god knows how long) and I don’t have to see/deal with/hear her anymore. She is one step closer to being expunged from my life, which is a welcome change.

4. I closed a huge deal. Unlike in my old job where no one would have cared, at my new job a) I was told to take a day off, b) I was moved into a HUGE partner sized office, and c) I got a thank you from every partner in the firm, one of which called me, “source of pride for the firm.” If you knew me in real life, this would be extra hilarious.

5. Certain Someone sent me really beautiful flowers today for no reason because he is a really nice guy. January turned out to be a pretty bad month for me, at least emotionally. Unlike December, which was also trying, January was devoid of much excitement, adventure and silliness. I need to get my life back in order, starting with resuming PSBF (which was a dismal failure last time around). I am going to use February, which is pretty much my least favorite month in the history of months, to do that. And by March, everything will be back in its right place.

6. How awesome would it be if all of my strife with Evil Troll resulted in a segment on This American Life about roommates. It would almost all be worth it as I am obsessed with TAL.