friendship
C.S Lewis got it right: friendship is born when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
Lost and Found
I found her in 1978. Elizabeth Diane Humphrey. I knew the instant we crossed paths that I needed to be friends with this remarkable woman, even before I had any concrete evidence that she was remarkable. When we met, Liz and I were both in our early 20’s and both expecting babies at about the same time. The babies were born and as they grew so did our friendship.
By Sandra Alexander 5 years ago in Humans
K-pop Penpals
When the pandemic hit I thought about all the people who would be missing their birthdays with family and friends. My daughter and at the time had gotten into K-pop music, and one of our favorite groups was BTS. We had secured tickets to see them in concert but covid19 happened and all social gatherings were canceled.
By Angie Mayoral5 years ago in Humans
Man Talk: Part 4
(Continued from Part 3) “Oh, like at camp.” She replied, and after a few moments of racking his brain, he remembered what she was talking about. Years ago, he, Nazeli, and Paul had been counselors at the summer camp that was affiliated with David and Paul’s church - a job both their parents had encouraged them to take in hopes that their people would somehow find him less of an acquired taste. At the end of the summer, all the counselors who hadn’t returned home had themselves a party around the camp pool, a little reward for the past eight weeks of wrangling pre-pubescent monsters.
By Sharisse Zeroonian5 years ago in Humans
Cut To The Chase
I’m crafty - always have been. Loved to make cards for every occasion. Cutting colored paper, making envelopes, taking photos and cutting off the heads and putting them on Wonder Woman and Superman bodies. It’s a gift my family would rave when I was a child and surprised them with my talent.
By pamela mayer5 years ago in Humans
"Friendship Gone Kaput"
“Friendship Gone Kaput” Course mates are like wounds that leave their marks on your skin at times on your soul even years after being cured. Some of those wounds behaves as if they came into this planet with you, so it’s their right never privilege to lay claim of attachment if not that of ownership on you. You have no choice but to go along praying that mother nature will reason with you and restore your skin to it’s original position.
By Philip Ebuluofor5 years ago in Humans
Ended Another Friendship Part 2
Here is part two of how I ended another friendship because of his wife. So I damaged Hollie's car, which I already said I would pay for. Well, since it was taking me a long time to get a quote for the damages she didn't like that. On my day off she sends me a long text message saying that I have changed since I've been back, and that I lacked on the house chores. I'm sorry what?! Apparently me working sixty hours was an inconvenience to her. The house had to be clean at all times no matter what. But yet, me and her husband were working a lot and she was on the couch all day.
By Michelle Hill5 years ago in Humans
Costume Calamity
Instead of a Christmas card, my best friend sends out a Halloween card to all her friends & family every year. Each year, she chooses a theme and a costume to go with it. Like all creators, she always has a very specific image in her minds-eye of how she wants the costume/character to be conveyed. She brought me into this process years ago to help make her visions come to life. We started small, just customizing a certain piece or modifying something she already had, but one year we decided to go bigger.
By Jessica Anderson5 years ago in Humans
The Creation of Matter, or What Do You Do When The World Stops Spinning?. Top Story - June 2021.
What I’d really like to be is everything. Is there an app for that? The older I get, the more I come to realize that the thing I’m really struggling with— underneath it all, hidden behind the daily desperation of “when will I finally become the person I want to be?” and the sometimes-hourly spiral sessions over my too-big feelings and too-small life— is that what I want cannot be quantified. No matter how hard I try or how intensely I think about it or how many different ways I find to write about it, I can’t seem to crack the code on balancing my desire for small, comfortable, everyday joys and my desperation for big, lofty, bucket-list happiness.
By Tina Wargo5 years ago in Humans
Ended Another Friendship Part One
I ended a friendship because of his wife. This is part one of that story. It's a very, very, long story. Here it goes: At the beginning of 2020 I moved to California to start over. I was stuck in a rut in my hometown. I just needed some place new. Some place where no one knew me. I just needed to see if I could make it on my own. So my best friend at the time, let's call him Andy, invited me to stay with him and his wife. Let's call her Hollie.
By Michelle Hill5 years ago in Humans
King of Homesick Hill
King of Homesick Hill William Jackson got the letter two days after his eighteenth birthday, January 2, 1960. He’d been drafted. The war in Viet Nam had been plodding along for five years already. Neighborhood friend, Jimmy Dawson, who lived on Capital Street died in Nam a year earlier. When he got that letter, he considered his options which seemed few at best. Draft dodging was not one of those options in his family. A descendent of several generations of military glory, only one of them had been regular Army. He knew he could avoid the Army by enlisting in one of the other military branches. Jackson’s uncle, Terrence, had been an Air Force Pilot during the Korean War. The fact that Terrence was a jerk on top of his subliminal if irrational fear of heights, was enough to keep him out of the Air Force. His Dad had been Army, a Green Beret no less. To be like his dad in any way or shape or form is not in the cards. He and his Dad are estranged on many levels for many reasons. But that is a whole other story.
By David Zinke aka ZINK5 years ago in Humans
Stars
My friend Franci and I gathered full baskets of cotton prints. The rolls of fabric looked like bursting wildflower bouquets. Mine tended toward oranges and blues, with every hue in between. Franci, a New Zealander, had a riot of reds, whites and blues. We were buying frantically. Our beloved local fabric store was closing.
By Nina Wasserman5 years ago in Humans
