My New Friend, Miss Flourence!

I don’t have very many girlfriends at all, and most of the ones I *do* have don’t live in NYC (I’m talking to you, Samalie). The thing is, I can’t for the life of me figure out how to meet new girls. It’s not like I can go to a bar and pick up a friend there. That would be totally weird and like the beginning of a Lifetime movie in which I eventually end up wearing my new friend’s face and driving off of a cliff with her mom in my trunk or something.

Anyway, it’s because of my lack of girlfriends that I was super enthused when I received the following e-mail today (punctuation and capitalization intact):

Hello

I’m miss Flourence, interested in you and i wish to have you as my friend, for a friend is all about Respect, Admiration, love and passion. Also friendship is consist of sharing of ideas and planing together, i intend to send you my picture for you, if you reply me.

Thanks from Flourence.

I mean, how serendipitous is that? Miss Flourence intends to send me her picture for me if I reply her! This is huge! My only concern is that she and I disagree about whether or not a friend is all about passion. To me, that seems kind of like a sex thing, but maybe I just don’t know much about ladies. Also, I’m confused about the definition of ‘planing.’ I’m scared to death of heights, so if that’s Bratislavian code for ‘hang gliding,’ I’m not down. Fingers crossed, guys – fingers crossed.

 

 

Daily Aggravation 17: Friends who get mad when I flake out on them

At this point in my life, I’ve whittled down the number of people I’m friends with to a relatively select few. I’ve known most of my friends for years – in fact, I’ve known some of them for over a decade. I’d like to think that after all this time, they finally understand that I am fundamentally a socially irresponsible hermit/vampire who is prone to cancelling plans at the last minute or falling asleep and missing them entirely. I know that this behavior is somewhat selfish, but honestly, you only live once, and I’m pretty sure that on my deathbed I’m not going to be turning to my children (and/or multiple pugs) and saying, “My only regret is that I didn’t go out to more shitty bars where no one chatted me up and my shoes got ruined by drunk bitches who spilled drinks on them.”