There are a few times in life when you make a new batch of friends. When you’re a toddler, your parents decide your friends for you and unless you encounter a violent hair-pulling bitch or god-forbid a kid who doesn’t know how to share, everyone is pretty happy hanging with everyone else. It’s like, “You like sitting around drooling and sucking your thumb and playing with Barbies? No way! Me too? Hashtag Besties.”
When you start school, you kind of just become friends with kids in your class who are right there and everyone’s looking for friends so it’s not too difficult. Plus, mom’s still arranging playdates. You have to invite every kid in the class to your birthday party because like inclusion, duh. Same goes with Valentine’s Day cards. I mean, it was stressful enough choosing between Hello Kitty or Power Rangers or assorted animals, and then picking which specific card to give to each person (no mom I can’t give Jake “Bee Mine” I’ll have to give him the one that just says “Happy Valentine’s Day” or he’ll think I like like him!), I don’t think I could have dealt with choosing who to give cards to at all! (this is not Facebook birthday politics, after all) And as you get older in school, you still are kind of presented with a small pool to choose friends from, whether at school or extracurricular activities, or whatever.
The next big one is college. It’s like it was before except with so many more people and you are basically starting over completely. I assume most people start with their roommates and hallmates and expand into meeting people in classes and once they start clubs/frats and sororities. All you do is bond over a Natty Light. With parties and all, the alcohol really helps. My hall was just really close and we all became friends. The rest of my friends basically came from friends of friends of friends of my hall. But freshman year is easy…everyone is looking for friends, and then as college goes on you just expand the web. You really could play six degrees with all my hall mates to find every single one of my friends.*
Post-graduation really depends on where you move. You stay in touch with your college friends who are local and reconnect with any high school pals nearby. Then you make friends at work. Once you’re in a serious relationship your friend count doubles as you adopt your S.O.’s as your own and once you have kids you become friends with their friends’ parents. By the time you’re all old and wrinkly it’s the same as when you were a baby: “You like sitting around drooling and sucking your thumb?” but instead of playing with Barbies it’s shuffleboard, “pound sign on a rotary phone Besties!”
Okay, so here’s my dilemma, all my friends graduated and I’m back at school but none of the other juniors and seniors are looking to make new friends, so what do I do? I have to be all bubbly and friendly and put myself out there? Ugh, because if it wasn’t clear I hate people. Basically I’m Paul Rudd in I Love You, Man. I can only hope to find someone as great as Jason Segel‘s Sydney, so let’s see how Peter (Rudd) got there.
Well we know that none of Peter’s fencing buddies liked him, but even if they did I don’t think I’d bite. I was actually obsessed with fencing after Parent Trap and even had a fencing birthday party. I then tried to actually take up fencing in middle school but the masks smelled disgusting (as did my coache’s breath, if I recall). It’s debatable whether it worked for Halle and Annie in Parent Trap, but I think that could of also just been Lindsay Lohan getting to live every narcissist’s dream and being bffs with herself.
Well the ‘man date’ set up by Peter’s mom turned out to be a real date, and I’m for sure too much of a mess for anyone to want to be set up on a date date with me. Getting set up by his brother didn’t end up working for Peter but that’s ultimately irrelevant in my pursuit because my brother is probably way to cool to want to introduce me to any of his friends, see previous mention of being a mess or literally any previous post for proof I’m a weirdo/psycho. It’s okay, I’m kind of trying to make friends with his friends behind his back. This is (not) awesome! This is (not) awesome! And finally, Peter is set up with a group of guys through his fiancé but like if I haven’t made it clear theres obviously no way I could have a S.O. Also wouldn’t turn out the same because I choose The Rolling Stones over The Beatles, am semi-competent regarding the hands in poker, and can hold my liquor way better than Peter. Now watch me projectile vomit the second I do meet friends. (at least it would be v Mischa Barton of me)
Read: Tinder. I mean, is there really a way to meet people online platonically? And even if there was, would I go for it? No. I mean the old guy Peter meets is so cute and it’s all very sweet but like first of all it just goes to show everyone’s lying: “that picture is from a few years back.” I mean only like old people put up insanely outdated pictures because if I put up a picture from 15 years ago I’d probably need to report the person who wants to meet up with the girl in the overalls and pigtails. Although I might not be exactly surprised given my baby prostitute days:
Anyway, getting a bit off topic here and will write more on online dating later, but point is this ain’t gonna work for me.
Unless Mark Ruffalo (or really even Edward Norton) has a place in Philly they not only want to sell, but are also willing to entrust the sale trust a non-realtor 21 year old girl, I won’t be able to recreate the exact circumstances of this friend on friend meet-cute. Maybe I could hit up an open house and be the Jason Segel character, but I’m worried no one else will find my theories on flatulence as endearing as they really should. And even if I did meet someone, how to I bond the way Peter and Sidney did? Who’s my Rush? You think someone will slappa da base with me to Bon Jovi? Or repeatedly to that new Taylor Swift song (but not her other songs**) or the old Jewel song I’m currently obsessed with? Will my Sidney (I’d even settle for a Hank Mardukas) be as forgiving when I call them City Slicker or Joben, because I most certainly will. And most importantly, will they forgive my psycho-ness when I inevitably end up crying in an uber?
Honestly, I just don’t know. Meeting people is just like ugh the worst. I really just want to meet people who hate everyone as much as I do. So, set me up if you want to, and if by any chance any Philadelphians who don’t know me are reading this don’t judge me if I give in and start being friendly. And well, in the mean time, I’ll just be spending most night with my best friend Don. Don Julio.
* Except my best friend Sunny. As her name would suggest she is the opposite of me and did exactly what I complained about not wanting to do in this post. We were sitting next to each other in a lecture hall listening to someone speak during a visiting day at Penn Junior year of high school and she literally just turned to me and said “Hi! I’m Sunny!” Here’s a pic of us being in love years later:
**Ugh okay I hate to admit it but also maybe We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, I Knew You Were Trouble, and 22
Ed note: Moments before publishing I was sitting in my American Political Thought class and noticed how fucking old I am compared to everyone else. This is going to suck.