Good Enough

I don’t know if it’s my right because they’re not my parents, and I know she already did it, but I still think that everyone who came/donated to Three Cheers for the Weirs deserves a monster THANK YOU.  Out here on my very short branch of influence, people from work who had never even heard of Stephie or her parents before were extremely generous.  I must have brilliant fucking marketing skills, because I really just wanted you guys to show up.  And when you had other plans, stopping by my desk to drop money on it – in most cases, amounts more than the cost of admission – was beyond incredible and so very, very appreciated.  I was happy to do my part to help my friend, but being able to give her your money was way better than anything I’d done on my own.

Thank you.  Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.

The turnout was just as great as I thought it would be.  Stephie has a vast network of interesting friends who are obviously just as touched by stories about her parents as I am.  After all the beers and the laughing until I almost peed and cheering for Mr. Weir, I found myself wondering if I could have pulled off something like that.  Namely, am I a good enough friend to inspire such support?

I think about this kind of thing a lot.  It’s not that I don’t think I have any friends (actually, I think I have just the right amount of them), I just wonder if I’m a good enough friend to them.  If I listen enough.  If I’m around enough.  If I’m thoughtful, kind, or entertaining enough.  I think about this every time I think about my friends, which, because Facebook exists, is practically all the time.

Sometimes I feel like an awesome friend (hey I saw something and thought of you), but more often I feel like a crappy friend (um, I work two jobs and other times I just like being alone).  I can pat myself on the back when I do something good, but I frequently forget to answer text messages and sometimes I talk too much about my own shit and I’m not very empathetic ever.

This may seem contradictory to some.  Occasionally, and over the past couple of years especially, I feel the need to cut someone out of my life.  I don’t come to the decision lightly and I don’t like it much, but I know that it’s a necessary step.  I refuse to be surrounded by toxic people, whether that toxicity is directed towards themselves or others.  This isn’t some touchy-feely New Age decision, it’s more like I am tired of putting up with other people’s shit all the time.  But also, I’m less concerned with the number of friends I have and more concerned with the quality of the friends I have.  (This is one reason why I don’t friend everyone I ever knew on Facebook.  Anyone I vaguely knew of but never spoke to at any point prior to 2006 gets a big fat IGNORE.)  Simply, I want good friends.  I want people who are good friends to me, and people I’m capable of being a good friend to in return.  Sometimes I think I’m doing well at this, but other times I worry that I’m failing.

With this in mind, here’s a (very) short list of apologies that may or may not be read by the people involved, because they may or may not even know this blog exists, in no particular order:

Shannon B – I’m never available to hang out, but I’m still so flattered and excited to be your bridesmaid.

Shannon M – You make wonderful dinners and I’m working during your play.  I wish I could see it, even if you get “soar.”

Angelica – Sometimes I don’t show up at get-togethers and I don’t always RSVP, but I’m going to do my damndest to take excellent photos at your reception.

Adrian – same, by default.

Jenny B – I am the lamest person ever when it comes to returning text messages.  I’m not ignoring them, I swear.

Jess – I’ve never come to Red Bud to see you, but you’ve come to St. Louis to see me (and bring Golden Draft!).  I will try very hard to make this right in the near future.

Kat and The Brad – I lean on you guys way more than I’m able to show you the same courtesy.  I’m just not as smart as you are.

Justin – I haven’t made the hugest effort to come back to Chicago, even though you’ve been very generous with your offers of temporary lodging.

Louis – Someday I will leave you strange animal drawings under your keyboard.  Fuck that 5S bullshit.  They red-tagged my headphone cords!

Dave – Sorry I didn’t stick around to see you puke.  I got shit to do.

About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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