Adulthood

40 Days of Writing, Day 3: Generation X and the Changing Face of Friendship

Published on by Lisa

The only thing I really miss about my 20s is the proximity to my friends.  Even though my friends and I are the guinea pigs of social media like facebook and twitter, linkedIn and blogs…there truly is nothing like sharing your life with someone via face to face time.  Being able to read someone’s face, instead of reading their blog.  Going to the market to pick up bread and talking through decisions is better than Skype calls with news updates about the decisions that have already been decided.

In 2011, in addition to my sister, three of my closest friends are getting married.  Of the three, two of them have fiancees I’ve never met and the one I have met is someone I’ve exchanged about 3 sentences.  So, to summarize: I’m letting three of my best friends go to spend the rest of their lives with people I have never met.

I feel entirely uncomfortable writing that.

Back in my 20s, saying someone was my Friend had meaning.  It meant I had some sort of interesting connection and liked their existence.  Now?  A “friend” can be someone you never really knew, but has access to your Facebook wall.

On the other hand, I’ve formed significant, life-saving relationships with other writers through social media.  We’ve met in person at conferences and writing events and are bonded by the written word and the sacred space of creative exchange.  I consider these people close in my heart, but it’s different than my friend Tricia whose should I cried on when I got my first D on a test in the 7th grade.

So many of my friendships have changed because of the different paths of moving, marriage, children, and occupation. Back in 2001, I began reading more and more newspaper articles claiming that my generation is a hopping generation.  Literally.  We hop around more than any generation before us.  Traveling is more accessible and jobs are less accessible.  Many of us move with restlessness, searching for something we can’t name and sometimes, in the middle of all of that, we fall in love with people from an entirely different region of the country that needs geographical compromise.  Whatever the reason, we’re more spread out than our parents.

What defines community for those of us transitioning in and out of friendships?  What does it mean to have relationships begin in one place, but then you both move to different parts of the country for the rest of your lives?  How do you make space for new friends?  Are they the same as friends with shared history?

Community.  Friendship. What does this mean in the era of computer screen bonding and texting life news, “I’m engaged!”?

Generation Xers — what is becoming of our relationships?

With Your Mouth Open

Published on by Lisa

I used to be a horrible daughter that nudged my brother, Fran, for laughs when our Dad fell asleep with his mouth open. I would shake my head in wonder, Are you THAT tired, Dad, that you can’t close your mouth?

Apparently yes.

Apparently that also runs in the family.

In an uber-productive weekend where we took to the leaves the way soldiers took to Normandy, and I tackled my closet and *finally* unpacked from a 4 weekend trip October, Nick and I accomplished much this weekend, domestically speaking. We cooked dinner, celebrated Books’ 30th birthday with the loyal Tom Ward from the ‘Nati, and even squeaked in an early 9am mass on Sunday morning. We rock like that.

After all that activity, I crawled to the sofa and sank into a poetry book, ready to be taken into a deliriously gorgeous Nikki Giavonni world, and then fell asleep, books on the floor, limbs sprawled like I’d been drugged, mouth gaping open. I was exhausted. Nick read Time magazine and covered me with a blanket. He’s kind like that.

Life is so much easier when you’re organized and wake up early. It’s so much easier to decide what to wear when your clothes are actually hanging on hangers and not crumbled up like leaf piles on your bedroom rug. I may be converted to Nick’s style of living – uncluttered and happy.

In other non-exciting details that we love to talk about, I continue to lament the lable of True Adult which Nick and I have humbly accepted. WIthout alarms, I wake up at 6:45am. Now for those of you out there who think that is not a big deal, remember two things:
1) I used to have nearly all evening classes at Xavier because I couldn’t wake up before 11am and 2) I am unemployed

I suppose it’s the rigor of raking leaves and rearranging my magnetic poetry that drains me and I need a fitful 8 hours to be productive. This transition is quite shocking, to say the least. Nick, in his balanced life patterns of wake, shower, work, eat, read, sleep gets routinely heavy lidded at 10:30pm (how embarassing) and rises to the world like clockwork at 7:30am. We don’t even have kids to blame for our lameness. We are Adults.

It’s So Not 2001

Published on by Lisa

Morgan is our niece. Two days ago, she just turned ten years old. I called to wish her a happy birthday and then passed the phone to Nick so he could greet her as well. This is what I heard:

Nick: Hi Morgan!

pause (obviously, I can’t hear Morgan.)

Nick: Happy Birthday!

pause

Nick: That’s great! What’d you do at school?….You passed out kit-kats? I be your classmates were loving that one.

pause pause pause

NIck: So, ten years old huh? You’re getting old! What’d you get today?

long pauses, Nick is walking around the living room. My eyes (and ears) follow.

Nick: You got a bike? That’s pretty freaking cool.

short pause

Nick explodes, “You got a cell phone?”

I hear giggling from Morgan.

“You got a cell phone? Of your own? …Man, I didn’t get a cell phone till I was out of college.”

There you have it. It’s official. When you compare the timeline between yourself and someone who is a decade old when you got your first cell phone, it’s over. We. Are. Old. Farts.