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You’ll never quit being an animal, however

January 2, 2012

I’m just going to link you to this piece by Drew Zandonella-Stannard from my favorite blog the hairpin, “What We Have Going For Us.”

Mostly, your relationships will end. You will hold people close to you with the knowledge that everyone is on a timeline. That everyone’s heart will eventually stop beating. Most of the time, though, things will not be this grim. If they were, no one would get laid.

The right people will be your memory bank. The right people will bring out the best in you.

Some people are the wrong people. Do not confuse them with the rare people who are inherently evil or bad. These people are just not for you.

There are the friends you meet for the occasional happy hour, and there are friends with whom you have longstanding Taco Tuesdays. Taco Tuesday means a bottle of wine for each person and peeling back the business-casual mask of the weekday while relaying mortifying tales of performed adulthood to one another. You hit reply all. You cried at your desk. You said “I love you” when you were unprepared or drunk or sober. Any day can be Taco Tuesday. These are the people who fill in your blanks. These are the right people.

We are social but we are not social media. We are social but we cannot survive on content alone. Sometimes being passive consumers of content works against us. If you don’t do it today you’ll put if off and then it will be awkward when you decide you really, really want to email this person. So do it today. Or don’t do it. Or maybe do it tomorrow, but if you don’t do it today you definitely won’t do it tomorrow. Again, make a list. Wash your face.

There is no IRL. This is everything.

via the (seriously, go read the rest. It’s amazing.) 

I read this aloud to the three college friends with whom I spent New Year’s Eve, for they are my right people. We rung in the new year with chicken & broccoli pasta made by my friend Alli and with the fancy $10.99 prosecco I picked up on the way over. We were in my friend Shara’s dad’s apartment in Fort Lee, NJ, with a full view of Manhattan and the fireworks in the distance. Our party clothes were replaced by stretchy pants and sweatshirts within an hour of arriving. Dan, possibly the smartest of all, didn’t even bother with uncomfortable party clothes to begin with- she began the night in sweatpants and then switched to even more comfortable sweatpants, this time with penguins on them. We watched Transformers, and realized that Shia LaBoeuf is, essentially, Woody Allen. We had pancakes the next morning and went our separate ways, certain that even if 2012 doesn’t turn out to be “better,” it will be OK because 2013 will see us together again, toasting the new year, Manhattan and our future stretching far and gleaming before us.

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