February 10 -- Today I received an email from my very old friend Shelly. (Our friendship is old, Shelly isn't. Well, she's my age and that's not old. Okay. Maybe a little old. Ish.) Shelly is part of a band of childhood friends I am blessed to belong to -- there are five of us -- who have stayed close over all these years. We are almost like family and, like siblings, we fall into the behavior patterns we had when we were little. Even if we are old(er).
Shelly, by the way, is the friend who wouldn't get off of the phone when my mother was hitting me over the head with the silver serving spoon. (See Tobasco Sauce entry.)
Out of all of the members of the Fab 5, (our very queer but fun group name) Shelly and I are the most competitive. It started back in junior high when we were both in the same "advanced" classes. Shelly was the one who always "bombed" a test only to get the higher grade. That used to drive me completely nuts. By the time high school was finished, we were pretty much labeled as the competitors of the group. We even went to the same college so we could compete some more. Ha. It was definitely a love/dislike (but mostly love) relationship.
After college, we went our separate ways but we stayed in touch. I would call her from NYC having moved there from Boston. Shelly had taken a job with a computer company in Boston, I had one with a national pr firm. Shelly's starting salary was (way) higher than mine. We would touch base and it was always, "Oh, I am so busy." To which she would respond, "you think you're busy..." When we got married and had kids it was, "omg the kids are driving me crazy. This one has a cold, that one has too many activities..." To which she would respond, "you think you have it bad? My kids have..." She always had a more horrific or distressing story to tell. And it bothered me. A lot. I would resist for a while but eventually I got sucked back into the competition -- but she just always seemed to have a more dramatic version of whatever was ailing me at the time. By the time I would get off of the phone I would have that sick feeling you get when you eat way too much Halloween candy. It's fun to do it but you kind of feel really nauseous afterward.
Eventually, I grew older. And I changed. It didn't happen overnight but I just eventually realized that I didn't want to compete anymore. It wasn't fun. It was actually kind of draining. So a couple of years ago, we had this really intense argument which led to an equally intense discussion. I love Shelly; I really do. She is very kind-hearted and one of the most creative women I know. And unbelievably talented with woodworking. After she left her extremely lucrative job in computers to stay home with her beautiful girls, she built her home by hand. Literally. She even made her kitchen cabinets, the molding on the windows, laid all the floors, installed the lights etc. Amazing. And totally, totally out of my league. Nothing to compete with, you know? I wasn't even close.
So now she just cracks me up when I get a "you think you have it bad" kind of response from her. A few weeks ago, one of our Fab 5 members sent out an email to ask if we could get together soon. I responded with an email which shared our winter woes with all of the leaking, roof issues etc. When I got Shelly's response today, I just shook my head. She started by giving me the pity I guess I was looking for and then she launched into all of her house issues. "It wasn't as bad as yours, " she started. "We only had our kitchen with buckets (and a very ruined ceiling) and a couple other small bucket locations in the front of the house." I was like, yipes, that sounds really bad! But then she went on to describe how she put pilot holes in the ceiling and the moldings and I was like, once again, wow...Shelly has me beat! She has it worse than me. But I was happy about it. I could only laugh when I read the part about how she tied a rope around a radiator and climbed onto the roof with a "mason's hammer for the ice." A "mason's hammer?" What the hell is that?! What woman our age knows what a mason hammer is, never mind knows how to use it? (Besides for cracking the ice on the roof.) Like I said, she is totally out of my league.
With all of this craziness, it helps to find things to laugh about. Reading Shelly's email made me silly with joy. I am no longer competing. She wins!! Needless to say, that freedom makes me one happy woman.
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