I was talking with some friends the other day. We hadn’t spoken in a while, and we were comparing all the exciting developments in our lives. Friend #1, a gorgeous blonde who compounds the offense by being both smart and nice, says “I just gave birth to my third child!” This after posting a picture of herself on Facebook with said child while wearing a sheath dress and sporting a perfect tan. Hate her. No, I don’t.
Friend #2, a sexy dark-eyed brunette with lips people go through multiple painful surgeries to emulate, says “I just got promoted! I’m now running the company I started working for when we graduated from school!” I have her Christmas card in my apartment. It has a picture of her with her huge, loving, crazy, amazing family all mugging cheerfully for the camera while seated around a truly fantastic-looking dinner table. Hate her. No, I don’t. She sends me cookies.
Friend #3, another brunette with incredible light eyes that show up like stars against her dark skin, confides “It’s been four years since I was widowed. I thought I would never love again, but I’ve found someone wonderful, and we’re getting married this fall! It’s been a kind of miracle, the kids love him just as much as I do. I’m so glad they’ll have a father-figure they really care about.” Can’t hate her. Really happy for her.
So then they all ask me what’s been going on in my life. And there’s just nothing. I’ve been scrounging around in my brain during the entire conversation, trying to come up with something, and I’ve got nothing. What do I do? Make something up? Tell them about how I read the Hunger Games trilogy in one day? I’m on the spot, and having a bad hair day to boot, and I blurt out “My blog got Freshly Pressed!” Crickets. Well-meaning, supportive crickets, but crickets nevertheless. Finally, Friend #1 (and this is why I can’t hate her) says “That’s great that you’re still keeping a blog, honey! I’ve always thought that’s so brave.”
And I thought: That’s it, I’m going skydiving!