Thursday, April 17, 2008

It's not you, it's me...and your lack of email


Listen, if you don't have internet access and a cell phone, then we simply can't be friends. And, it's not because I am a technology snob. I'm not. As I type this, there is literally duck tape holding my cell phone together (long story). It's because I don't have the time or mental capacity anymore to be friends with people in person. Period. I have more of an in the flesh relationship with my OBGYN, the the produce guy at the supermarket, and the old man at the liquor store in town where I buy my mommy juice, than with some of my friends of 10 years.

Yes, Brittany's friendship 2.0 requires limited face time, with most interaction occurring over email, online banter and text messaging. Occasionally, cell phone conversation may occur, but that all hinges on if my cell phone is undergoing a "drying out" period from being tossed in the dog's water bowl. Either way, this new friendship style enables me to connect to you with confidence, regardless of how many days it has been since my last shower, if my armpits smell like a man because I ran out of deodorant last week, and have been using my husband's Old Spice, or if I am wearing the same "lindseylohanmakemyasslookhugebutidontcare" leggings three days in a row.

It is working out just peachy for me, and, really, I am doing my nearest and dearest a favor by hiding behind this newfangled world wide web (that's what it's called, right mom?), especially today, as I have been working outside all day, and I am...well...pretty ripe.

I am not all modern and fancy though (seriously hunny, can you help me get the music magically from the computer onto my ipod again?), and I still keep a few of my oldest pals close. Like Jordan, who I have been friends with(actually, more like sisters...oh, oh, I call being the hot one!) for 12 years, and besides being one of the baddest bitches I know, she could single handedly destroy me with the sheer amount of incriminating information she has on me. But, the trick is, to have an equal amount of incriminating info about her, which I do...so it balances things out nicely. I mean, if those pictures were ever to leak...there goes our shot at ever being in public office. This is the basis of all good friendships. I don't release your sex tape, you don't talk about that one night in Cancun.

Ahhh...kindred spirits.

It seems like just yesterday we were sitting in my room, blowing out each other's hair, drowning ourselves in Tommy Girl perfume, listening to The Verve Pipe's The Freshman on repeat as we listened for the exaggerated bass of our date's car coming down the street.

I guess my pending old age (10 days and counting) has me more reminiscent these days. Plus, I am elbow deep in the monster that is planning our 10 year high school reunion, and going through old year books makes me miss old friends. I mean, not enough to hunt them down on myspace, but enough to sigh deeply and think, "My, I sure do miss *insert random friend from high school clique*, I wonder what they are up to?" But that thought is quickly dismissed as I am interrupted by a toddler who has since ripped his diaper off, and started peeing on my leg.

This is why I can't be your friend in person, folks. I am tired, old looking, and I smell of toddler pee.

2 comments:

lambrina said...

Fing HATE when I have to use husband's gel type deodorant. TOO STICKYYYYYY. I do like how I can turn myself on with the smell tho.

Jordan said...

You've got a lot of nerve...I am soooo the HOT one! Good times.