Cathy Fischer wraps up this month’s friendship theme with an ode to the gay boyfriend
There’s no one like a gay boyfriend to tell you, you look divine (and he probably would use that word). Only a gay boyfriend could appreciate your shoes and hairstyle as much as your most stylish girlfriends do, and there’s no one like a gay boyfriend to behave perfectly on a date, to scope out the cute boys with you and for you, when not competing with you, of course.
I’ve had gay boyfriends as long as I could remember, having always been involved in dance and play production…you know, the arts. When I was a freshman in college, I was a bit naïve. I often had crushes on the gay boys. Practically the entire cast of Guys and Dolls, were boys’ boys. You know, the pretty ones, the ones with the wicked sense of humor, the great sense of style? It took me a little while to catch on, but once I did, I accepted my fate, and was transformed and transported to fag hag heaven. Read more
The strange behavior of some so-called “close friends” has Carine Fabius rethinking the concept.
A very close friend of mine vanished out of my life without so much as a goodbye. That experience forever seared its mark into my “open to all newcomers” disposition. Another intimate of mine decided after 15 years that she no longer wanted to be friends, but she refused to tell me why. She tried the silent treatment, but I kept hounding her until she finally sent me a cryptic email that said, “Give me some time to sort it out.” That was in 2002. I stopped waiting a long time ago.
A woman I was friends with went through a difficult time, economically, and no matter how much I helped (by referring business contacts her way) it was never enough, and she never stopped reminding me of it. I walked away from her, but I let her know why. Read more
Connie Stetson muses on friends and relations, relatively speaking.
Not to speak ill of relatives, of course, but Euripedes got that right. I’m grateful that my sister and have become good friends, and I’m glad I only have one sister to work my shit out with, but we never had a choice. It’s the combo-pack with family. For good or ill, with deeper issues to work out, old wounds to mend; we’re all so invested in the story we made up about when we were kids that it’s nearly impossible to show up as changed, or better, or over that, ya know?
Ah, but our friends… To be able to say to someone, “I absolutely support your change and growth, but you never have to change for me to love you.” Knowing that there are a select few out there who hear your truth and your inconsistencies, and you theirs, is a mighty, mighty force indeed. To allow a dear friend, in all loving honesty to say, “your ass looks like a giant bag of potatoes in those pants, take them off now!” To stand with a friend as she walks through loss, illness, change and all of the boundless joyful stuff too—well, this is what helps keeps me anchored. Read more
Christie Healey reflects on true friendships and “china plate” mates.
Just as I started to think about this blog, an old friend from New York sent me a long email. Barbara is one of the most energetic women I have ever met. She has 13 grandchildren, plays tennis and golf and keeps well abreast of the political scene (her opening line was to congratulate me, as a Minnesotan, on the seating of our second senator after eight months of legal whining). I have not seen Barbara in over five years, but every six months or so we correspond. She comes from a nearly extinct breed, the letter writer, but now I see she has discovered email.
I have friendships of over 30 years and of less then three. All of them stroll into my mind at unexpected times and are in my most oft-visited memories.
What brought me together with my friends is still a little mysterious to me, sometimes there is an instant connection and sometimes it takes longer. Read more
Prudence Baird reflects on midlife connections in the age of social media.
I know why baby boomers are joining Facebook faster than Bernie Madoff’s victims are moving in with their adult children.
We’re not done yet. We’re not done dominating popular culture as defined by our presence in the media, including the “social media” like Facebook and MySpace.
We’re not done with—even though we’ve long exceeded—our 15 minutes of fame. Each. We’re not done prancing in the spotlight—even if for some of us, it’s our first time. Read more
Studies show that people with pals lead longer, healthier and happier lives. For our group post this month, we’re each sharing thoughts on friendship.
Melissa Howden reflects on the enduring impressions left by friends, real or otherwise.
Cindy Atkins had a long blond ponytail that swung from side to side. Invariably the bow in her hair matched her dress. At six, Cindy Atkins was my first real best friend. During the course of our friendship, which lasted until about third grade, I spent hours trying to coax my curly frizzy hair into a ponytail like Cindy’s. In the bathtub I would lay my head in the water and swish my head back and forth to get the feeling of a swinging ponytail. For a time, while my hair was wet, my ponytail would be smooth and organized like Cindy’s, but then one by one, a frizzy curl would pop out of my tight ponytail, all my effort defeated by nature. Be it for our friendship or her ponytail I have never forgotten Cindy Atkins. Read more