Breaking up with a friend is a very dramatic and emotionally trying process. It’s not much different than breaking up with a girlfriend or boyfriend, in fact, it may actually be worse since we tend to be closer and know friends much longer than many of our romantic relationships. I’ve had a few friendship breakups and they freaking sucked but were necessary in order to prevent me from going insane. The first time I had to divorce a friend was just a couple of years ago. (There had been many breakups in this friendship beforehand.)
I had been friends with the same chica since I was eleven years old and by the time we were in high school people on the street would come up to us and ask us if we were twins. We look nothing alike but our mannerism, the way we could speak with gestures and looks yet without words and the way we dressed had become so similar people thought we were related. Read more on College Candy…
On TV, there’s always a group of friends who spontaneously meet up, or someone will call Tyler, and they’ll say, “Tyler, meet me at [whatever bar or coffee shop here]” and they hang up and don’t even give a time, and Tyler always shows up. And let’s not forget the ole drop-by. This happens a lot on “Beverly Hills, 90210″ (the original). EVERYONE drops by Dylan’s house. I understand why TV writers do this. To show characters calling each other, or texting each other, is a lot less interesting than having them speak in person. But this trope gave me false hopes about what being an “adult” would be like. And by “adult,” I mean any cool, awesome chick from 18–30; from Clarissa Darling to Carrie Bradshaw. I thought that once I turned that magical adult age, I would have a close group of friends who would always be available to meet at “our” place or drop by unexpectedly.
I don’t think this is a real thing. Keep reading »
Does the layout of this modern apartment look familiar? That’s because it’s Dexter Morgan’s Miami apartment from the show “Dexter,” recreated in painstaking detail by illustrator Iñaki Aliste Lizarralde. His depictions of TV homes are available as posters from his Etsy shop, and include such notable spaces as Lorelai’s sprawling Stars Hollow house from “Gilmore Girls,” Jerry Seinfeld’s apartment, and The Simpson’s Springfield abode. Check out a few more famous floor plans after the jump… Keep reading »
In fall of 2010, I went through maybe one of the lowest points in my life. I was dumped over IM by my live-in boyfriend (yes, that one) and due to a zillion circumstances outside of my control, my work life was in complete chaos. I walked around for weeks with a burning feeling in my stomach, unable to eat or sleep and in a total daze. I committed the cardinal sin of crying at work, and begged a doctor friend to write me a prescription for anxiety meds (I didn’t have health insurance at the time). I went to therapy. I bought self-help books on cognitive therapy to try and shake the shitty, negative thoughts that constantly ran through my head. I felt like a raw nerve with absolutely no hope of ever healing.
So I did the completely sensible thing, and bought a plane ticket to Barcelona. Keep reading »
I love bringing people together, and am what Malcolm Gladwell would call a “connector.” If you’re telling me about how you really love comic books, I’m going to hook you up with my friend who’s selling a bunch you might want. You want a new assistant at your office? My friend’s younger brother is the perfect kid for the job. Or you need a new apartment? I’ve got a buddy who’s a Realtor who can help find you a place. And in that same way I love helping my friends make love connections. Over the years, I’ve introduced a few couples (one met while there was a destructive indoor fireworks show happening at my house on New Year’s a few years back) and have also been the object of a set up or two. And I’ve learned there are a few helpful rules you should observe when trying to make sparks fly: Keep reading »
As of late, I feel as though my friends and I are in a Doors song, specifically “Riders On The Storm.” We are making the poor decision to ride into a the perfect storm of broken hearts and alcohol, combined with the fact that we’re in our mid- to late-twenties and freaking out about it. Which also means that we should know better. Yet we continue to get knocked down, and then get up again, because you ain’t ever gonna keep us down.
We need to calm our tits.
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