Leave Me Alone, I Hate You

Friendship. There are movies about it. Books. Poems. Bracelets. Songs.

Winter, spring, summer or fall. All you have to do is call, right? Hell yeah, I'll be there...you've got a friend.

There are many different species of friends.

Childhood Friends (CFs) are mostly horrifying because you have nothing politically or personally in common with them anymore, yet they want to call you by old nicknames and reminisce about the time you choreographed an elaborate routine to the song "Hey Mickey" and performed it together in the school talent show. Be warned, CFs really love social networking sites like Facebook because it allows them the opportunity to post unflattering photos of a younger you wearing snug neon-colored outfits. Of course, you can always take solace in the fact that CFs tend to age poorly and have way too many children.

Work Friends (WFs) are essential for lunch company and avoiding copy machine related mental breakdowns. However, you must remember that most WFs can't be trusted to see you drunk unless you want to hear about it around the ole water cooler until you retire. Also, bear in mind, if you're starting a new job -- the person who is nicest to you on your first day will likely be the one you hate the most by your third week there.

Friends of Friends (FOFs) can go many ways. Some you resent and wish would move to Milwaukee. (unless you in fact live in Milwaukee, but either way, you catch my drift) Some you wish were YOUR friends, with no relationship or knowledge of your mutual friend at all. Still others you secretly want to make out with, but you can't because it could potentially sever the delicate branches of the friendship tree.

Primary Friends (PFs) are perhaps the most complicated. First, any or all of the above friend species can transition into PF status given the right circumstances. PFs can live around the corner or across the globe. Good friends (GFs) and Best Friends (BFs) are simply subsets of the overall PF category...and, Billy Crystal be damned, they can include members of the opposite sex.

You know who your PFs are. They're Kate to your Allie. Laverne to your Shirley. Natalie to your Tootie. Turner to your Hooch. (though technically thats a man/dog relationship, so I'll leave your Hooch out of this)

The bond is strong, this I will not dispute, yet...

Admit it. You kind of hate your friends. You like them too, why wouldn't you? They're your friends...but you also hate them.

They do things. Things that annoy you. They talk too much. Too little. You've already heard that story three times, and still they tell it. They beat you at board games or wear the same shirt as you. They are soooo wrong (even when you know they're right). They involve you in events that require you to leave the house and/or buy them gifts. They play the devil's advocate when you desperately need them to take your side. They're successful and thin when you're, well, not. And nauseatingly cheerful just as you've descended into darkness.

You wish they would call more. Or less. Or never.

Friend hatred is something I learned very early on:
August 23, 1982

Hadley was sick, but she went to the fair tonight. How dumb. I hope she barfed. When I'm sick I don't go anywhere.

Jenny tells me how Hadley shows off around Derek. I don't think she does. I think Jenny gets jealous about everyone that goes near him.

She acts like she owns him.

But I still like her.

Sadly, my bizarre hopes were dashed -- Hadley didn't barf (at least not until a few summers later when we drank a two liter of Boone's Farm in the back of my parents Astro van). But Jenny did act like she owned Derek, there is no question. I was gracious enough to overlook it, but this polarizing issue eventually ended the seemingly unshakable bond between Hadley and Jenny.

Sure, you can try to explain it away by saying they just grew apart. Hadley got increasingly "sporty" and developed an unusually deep voice while Jenny opted to become an exchange student in Norway and came home a year later with an aversion to deodorant and bras.

But I know what really happened. I was there. In the middle. Secretly hating them both.

There is a lesson to be learned from the tragic Hadley-Jenny fallout.

The key to maintaining close friendships is to never, ever let them know how deeply you sporadically despise them.

But I still like him.