Sloppy seconds

As we get older, we learn that life isn’t really easy. As babies all we had to do was cry, and we would get what we wanted. But then again the only thing we really wanted was milk. The emotional and spiritual supply and demand becomes more complicated as we get older. We desire companionship, not just baby formula; we desire commitment, not just a lullabies; we desire financial success, not just a bedtime stories. And yet, ironically, the more complicated our wants become, the more we find ourselves settling for less.

I have no choice but to settle for the family I have. They have no choice but to settle for me. I’ve found some friends of mine, brilliant Ivy Leaguers, settle for slacker biz. I and a lot of other people, at least at one point in our lives, have settled for someone less than fight.

I remember in high school, I kissed someone that I didn’t really like and I cried because I felt so cheap and because I cheated on my carefully planned out love story. These days, I find myself chalking it up to free booze and cheap talk for every frog I kiss.

Settling for a less than Byronic love life is actually practical. Fairy tales never happen, and if you do live happily ever after, think of it as a bonus.

But have you ever thought about your friends?

Yes, your partners in crime, your comrades – do you think you’re settling for less in that department as well? Back in those days, it was so simple: You both liked the same sandwich, you were soul mates. It gets tricky especially between girlfriends. This is why you have to admire male relationships. Their components still match those of the sandbox soirees.

In Nip/Tuck, Joely Richardson admits to her husband that the true father of her son is his best friend. Her husband divorces her and despite her desperate attempts to win him back (a tit job included) she becomes majorly delilah. The boys gets into a bit of a fist fight, then call it a day. Men, just like what they do with anniversaries and our birthdays, can easily forget about little things, like impregnating their best friend’s wife. Just kidding, but you know what I mean.

My friend, an editor of one of the biggest magazines around, sums it up best: "It’s all about jealousy and insecurity. It stems from not learning how to be a good sport the way boys learn it in childhood when they play games and sports. Boys learn not to take things personally. They learn how to be team players early in life. That’s why girl in sports should be encouraged." Something tells me that women oft learn about the game too late in life.

I have two female best friends, one is Mel who lives in LA, and the other is Wendy, who much to her chagrin lives five minutes away from me. One thing has kept me friends with these two women over the years without a hitch. It’s not something extracted from the divine secrets of ya-ya sisterhood but rather it’s simply because we don’t have the same taste in men. Ultimately this is what extinguishes the coziest of friendships. You don’t believe me? Watch Beaches again, will you?

As my job got more stable, my men more dependable, the suspension bridge of my friendships got more rickety. Over the years there have been more dicks than chicks at my dinner table. My friend said regarding female competion, "Female friendships are more complicated because versus men I believe that there is always an underlying competition going on. Women are raised to think that being beautiful and making it in life are the highest goals to attain. It’s made clear that you have to obliterate the competition. So, as much as girls are the most loyal and most capable of intimacy, they can’t help but also constantly benchmark versus other girls. That’s where the complications start, the whole game of loving and hating each other."

Once you get over the suspicion that your guy friends just want to sleep with you (or once you’ve crossed that fence – anyway most of them don’t want to so let’s not flatter ourselves too much), you have to fasten your seatbelt for an even bumpier ride.

What makes men fabulous is their silence. Which inadvertently may work against them in a relationship. Men never backstab. When they do, it’s because of an essential need – to get into your pants, that’s all. Women seem to do it for no reason. Like getting Flamenco lessons or going to the gym, it’s almost like an exercise. Through the Tower of Babble comes the implosion, which is mostly fun to watch if it’s not happening to you. Unlike men who worry about being alone when they’re 50, women start thinking about it when they lose their best friend to some guy for the first time.

When a man hits his first million, he feels made. When a woman hits her first millionaire, she feels more afraid than ever. A man, a real one, hardly covets what others already have. A man always likes to be original, thus the hunger for limited edition cars and virgin brides. They may desire these items when they are not yet possessed by anyone else, but once someone has won the jackpot they move on to the next desirable thing.

Some women have all the eligible bachelors lined up in their mental Dewey decimal system. They all want that prized catch, even if it is possessed. I once heard that a mother once stole her daughter’s fiancé, don’t know how true this is, but sounds real to me. And another one where two sisters shared one guy – one after the other – how very ancient Roman of them.

It’s not only about men. In the workplace, the glass ceiling is still unfortunately quite low for most women. The opportunities that need to be seized are limited. Forget dog-eat-dog, more like bitch-eat-bitch.

So, what do you do when you find yourself in the company of a toxic friend? Unlike men who square it off in a fight then have a beer afterwards, women never forget a red fingernail that scratches their cheek.

I often do what I’ve found to be the most sensible thing so far, learn and move on without a catfight. It’s useless, the winner is never determined by who wins the fight as it is for men. It drags on to gossip mongering and husband stealing.

We’ve been taught how to break up with lovers with whom we have been more intimate than anyone else in our rolodex. But when it comes to breaking up with friends, it’s always a gray area. You can pretend to lose your phone and just never give your new number again. Another is to say that you don’t like her boyfriend. That’s usually enough Baygon. If she’s really determined, make a move on him. If that doesn’t work, work on a restraining order.

I mean what do you say? "I don’t want to be your friend anymore." Sounds very Mischa Barton to me.

So I guess it’s this at the end of the day: Keep your friends close, but your corner office/husband closer.