Oh so many feelings. I haven't called anyone my best friend since my grade 3 BFF dropped me like a hot potato once grade 4 started. I've never recovered and remain super skeptical of people who make friends quickly.
I do have amazing close friends, most of who are long distance (thanks grad schools) so like Kelsey (A Practial Wedding) I don't have that day-to-day check in. Mostly this works for me, too much contact is often very overwhelming to me. It's hard to balance between immediate, "real life" relationships and activities and a phone/inbox of texts, emails and Skype calls.
My most life-significant friendship is with my roommate. We are friends but it's a balance of friendship, partnership, and adopted-familial obligation.
Something I'm having a really hard time with lately is reconciling my friends and their romantic relationships. My default is to read this as "I am now demoted." Which, though a huge bummer, has often been the case. As a single person who has almost always been single, I place a very high value on my platonic relationships and it hurts when those external romantic relationships take precedence. It makes me feel like my relationships are way-stations for others and it hurts.
Pretty emotional about this today because the roommate is all swoony over a long-distance someone which is probably going to have a big impact on our little world.
In summary, friendships are great and hard.
When I was in college I wrote columns for the paper. They were fairly political, and I was a huge lefty. My grandmother, who attended Nixon's inauguration and was a staunch Texas Repub, was not wild about them. I wrote one particularly left wing one and she sent me this BRUTAL note talking about how she "thought about writing the Editor directly, but decided I'd write you instead. It's time we separate the wheat from the chaff..." totally tore me a new one, politically. I called my dad and read it aloud to him and said something like "DUDE. SHE'S MY GRANDMA. SHE SHOULD BE BAKING ME COOKIES!" I heard nothing for a week. Then I got an unmarked package in the mail with no return address. There were six dozen cookies inside. No note.
When I was about 13, I found a photo album in my grandmother's house. It featured a young woman who was clearly my mom, wearing a poofy white wedding dress. She stood alongside a mysterious mustached man.
When I ask my mom who it was, she replied, "Oh, that's my first husband."
???? First husband? When I asked why she never told me, she replied, "Because you never asked."
Top 5 Family Trolls:
5. My mom used to call me by my sister's name a lot, which is understandable. Then she got a dog and totally fell in love with it, and now accidentally calls me by the dog's name. The dog's named Boomer. My name is Paige. Thnx mom.
4. My mom, who is not a musical person, secretly learned TAPs on my dad's trumpet and would wake us up with it when we slept in too late on weekends.
3. We used to troll our aunt during Christmas time by sneaking into her yard and posing her decorative light-up reindeer in various sexual positions.
2. One time my cousin wrapped up a piece of dog poop in a jewelry gift box - laid it out on a nice swath of cotton and everything - then gave it to my other cousin for Christmas.
1. When I was little my blankie was MY LIFE. IT WAS MY LIFE. Noticing this, my older sister used to run into my room, yank it from my grasp, then lock herself in the hallway bathroom and repeatedly flush the toilet, all the time yelling "I'M FLUSHING YOUR BLANKIE DOWN THE TOILET, I'M FLUSHING YOUR BLANKIE DOWN THE TOILET!" To this day I still hide my blankie (which yes, I still have) whenever she comes to visit.
My brother's the baby of our extended family. We forget to tell him things a lot. He swears he didn't know our aunt was a twin until well into elementary school. He thought he had one very attentive aunt who changed clothes a lot. He found out when he saw them together.
I LOVE POO POURRI. My friends bought it for me but I'm totally sure they didn't mean anything by it
By Rookie (not the magazine) (not that there's anything wrong with that) on How Have You Made Yourself Proud This Year?
Read Anonymous and recognized what she went through and in case I haven't told her enough: she is so brave and I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that I admire her a lot and I think she's kickass.
This year I finally came to terms with the fact that I am good at my job. I got a raise that I asked for (very meekly, but I asked for it) and I took a stand about some work-related stuff I thought was important, and I was able to stand my ground because I know that I am good at my job.
"Mindy Kaling would be the Shonda Rhimes, Shonda Rhimes would be the Aaron Sorkin, and Aaron Sorkin would be just some dude watching from home."
What a beautiful world.
I had a weird, illegal, "relationship" with my high school English teacher. I was 15, he was 30. It ended up, as you so eloquently put, reaching a boiling point and he got suspended indefinitely from the school. He was never fired, never had his salary suspended, and as far as I know moved to DC and is still teaching. It's a little different than the college professor/student relationship, but I really identified with this essay. I never felt like a victim. The only reason any of it came to light was that another student called the police and had it reported. Honestly though, dealing with the police and the publication of events (yeah small town newspapers!) was more emotionally and physically violating that our little whatever-it-was ever was. But now, so many years later, I still have such an icky feeling when I think about it or when I see student/teacher relationships portrayed in films or books. I think the saddest thing to come out of it was to realize he just relocated and went on with his life. I've been slut shamed for the past ten years (oh my god, has it really been that long?). I cannot tell you how many acquaintances met at parties/possible dates/people I was hooking up with would bring it up. As if it was my only identifier. "You fucked that teacher right?" No, I didn't, we never went that far, we mostly talked, and we might have fooled around a little but..oh heck, yes, fuck it, that was me! I am that girl! And instead of saying how horrible a person he was to take advantage of me, it's always "how could let that happen to you?" I don't know. I don't think any girl ever does.
By commanderbanana on “It’s magnificent what you’re doing, to help women realize their dreams for themselves.”
The hero is us. VOTE. Protest. Donate money to Planned Parenthood, NARAL, and NAF. Volunteer as a clinic escort.
Become part of the chain of women that provides housing, food, and transportation to women coming to cities where abortions are obtainable. Challenge people who are anti-choice and anti-women's healthcare. If you've had an abortion, talk about it. If you haven't, still talk about it.
Intern or work at organizations devoted to ensuring women have access to reproductive healthcare. Run for office. Become an OBGYN and learn how to perform abortions. Provide abortion services to women.