I’ve been blogging every day for two weeks straight, which means we’re on to Day 15 of NaBloPoMo. Today’s theme is Frenemy, that devious portmanteau.
As I’ve said before, I’m kind of a jealous person. So it probably goes without saying that I’m prone to frenemies. You know, friends that are also enemies? My most memorable frenemy was a girl named Jackie. Is it me, or are they always named Jackie? (No offense if that’s your name. It just means you are stunning and perfect and I’m jealous of you).
Jackie and I met in law school. I was unbelievably threatened by her because she was basically the upgraded version of me. A more brunette brunette, with bluer blue eyes, and whiter white teeth. Thinner than I was, but not so thin that it didn’t look good. A runner like me, but she ran farther and faster. She was smart, she was funny, she could sing. And socially, way less awkward than me. Honestly, I don’t even know why she was friends with me. Deep down, ugh, I just kind of wanted Jackie to fail at things a little bit. Nothing serious, of course, maybe she could just gain 20-30 pounds and develop some acne?
After law school, Jackie and I both joined the same law firm. Needless to say, she was a pretty big hit. One day, she got drunk at a recruiting event and accidentally replied-all on her blackberry to a firm-wide email, sending a “$” in response to a message about our recent deals and cases. Everyone thought it was adorable. Classic Jackie.
And while we were working in New York together, Jackie got into the NYC Marathon through the lottery system. And when she crossed the finish line, she threw her hands in the air and flashed her toothpaste-ad-worthy pearly whites. I know this because her picture ended up on the cover of the online edition of the New York Times. Classic Jackie.
We don’t talk or see each other much anymore, but I still find myself jealous of Jackie all the time. Is that pathetic or what? It doesn’t help that her Instagram game is on point. Like, can you please stop traveling to Iceland and Zimbabwe so I can be satisfied with my life?
Therein lies the problem with frenemies, at least for me. It can’t be healthy to get so worked up about what someone else has, especially when what you have is pretty freaking good. I’m 32 now, it might be time to learn how to be happy with myself, my life, my choices. Honestly, who cares if my friends are running marathons and starting charities in Africa.
Until next time,