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2001-05-11 - 12:14 a.m. One of the women that wrote the all too famous “Rules”—for how women can lie their way into trapping a man—book is getting a divorce. So, very appropriately, I went out with some female friends. I haven’t seen these women in a long time. The fact that they’re all female is odd for me. I’ve recently realized how much I hang out with and talk to men—Devin, Ian, Swerdloff, Wolff. It’s funny to all of a sudden be out with three women in New York City. We had a couple drinks, and then went to dinner. We talked about men and dating and women and how it’s okay to be happy when you see a thin beautiful woman walking down the street with her shirt tag hanging out, looking like an idiot. I think I’m better with people in a one on one situation. When I’m in a group of people, there’s always a fight to try and listen to everyone at once, and I never really get to focus in on one person. We were like a little gang—I noticed there were a lot of gangs out tonight. Bunches of men and women huddled together. Then again, we were on the Upper East Side, where no one really talks to each other. “Buffy, don’t talk to her.” **Meanwhile, a huge fly is being stalked and hunted by my cats right now, who are leaping over me in an effort to catch this thing. Always some excitement.** I kept pointing out the good-looking guys as we sat at the table or as we walked down the street. Sara and I both uttered an “Awwwwww” when we witnessed a man politely ask a hunched over elderly woman if she needed help crossing the street. I wanted to follow him into the bar he went into, but we were too hungry for food at that moment, so it was onto the restaurant. One of the main subjects of conversation was my friend’s relationship with a co-worker. Talking about work dating was interesting, especially for me since I haven’t spoken to women about this subject that much. Dating at work is perhaps the worst thing you can do, I think. But I’m not one to be saying that as a steadfast rule. My friends all had sad stories about getting over these relationships, and how it takes one of you leaving the job for it to really end. It’s so true…when you date someone that you don’t work with, and it’s over, that’s it. There’s no way you are going to bump into that person EVERY day, unless you’re really unlucky. Mondays in general suck, but having to go to work the Monday after you broke up with your co-worker is something I wish I never have to do again. I had a great time hanging out with these women, but to be honest, as I think about our evening, it saddens me. Most of the evening was spent talking about dating, who we’re dating, who we want to date, how we hate dating, etc. Another reason why I like to hang out with people one-to-one. Somehow I think that in that situation, dating would not be the main focus. I went to high school with these girls, and so after we exhausted the whole dating topic, we moved onto “who’s getting married” and “who have we seen” from our high school days. I’m getting old. First off, three out of the four of us now wear glasses, have been to many weddings of friends (except me), we’re on a second or third job out of college, we’re trying to quit smoking because frankly it’s just not cool anymore, and we are comfortable living alone in New York City. We’re comfortable. We talked over the recent big steps in our lives—friends’ engagement parties, weddings. I just had a flash ten years from now when we meet again, for brunch one day, perhaps with children, perhaps not, to discuss the next chapters in our lives—parents retiring, dying, younger sisters celebrating their 5th wedding anniversary, our first house, etc. I learned about a few friends in my high school class that are either engaged or married. They’re happy. A few other friends from that time in my life are still figuring it all out like the four of us still are, but there are less of us “wanderers”. And I also heard that one of my friends has killed herself. Threw herself in front of a train at the Scarsdale train station. She never was happy with life, I remember that. And I was never that close with her (never that close with anyone from high school). But I did know her. We had common friends, had classes together, she was in the literary magazine club with me when I was editor (it was a very small club)—I remember she’d write these dark poems about depression and death. But, then again, everyone wrote those during high school. I think she tried to kill herself in high school; she had an eating disorder as well. And now she’s dead. I can’t really say that I’m going to miss her, I mean, I had plum forgotten about her frankly till her name was brought up. And I don’t know if others from my class have committed suicide. But it’s the first time that someone I knew—more than just recognizing the name, or going to the same school—has died. God…well I hope she’s happier wherever she is now… Goodbye Lauren.
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