Freegan Friends

What to do when old friendships just don't seem to be that.. friendly.

In the past week I have had a few visitors from my past. People that I really enjoy, people I've shared a lot with, people I seem to have nothing in common with now.

First, there was Liat. I have mentioned her before; she runs a vagina-oriented website. She came in to town just after my birthday. It was sweet because we had met up in Jerusalem for an afternoon last year around my birthday, and it felt like the beginning of a tradition. I met her down in Greenwhich Village, she and her friend (who's name escapes me, so lets call her Jill because she struck me as a Jill) were sitting around. After 15 minutes of catching up, we had truly nothing to say to each other. Nothing. I was hungry, and it was daunting trying to find a place where I could eat and they could potentially get a snack. Not only are Liat and her friend vegans (no meat, no milk, no eggs) but they are also freegans. These are people who protest overconsumption by finishing other people's food found in the trash. No, really. Usually with friends who visit I take them down to SOHO and show off Sabon and a few other places and window shop. This was incredibly unexciting for them. Our conversations would go like this:
Me: So.... what are you up to in life?
Liat: Shrug
Jill: Incredibly wide grin
Me: ...Uhuh

Barely after getting over that afternoon, I received a phone call from Kiva. Kiva and I were best friends back from when I was 14-16 or so spending out summers together at Jew-camp. Kiva and I have not seen each other in at least three years. She's currently an artist living in a loft in Philadelphia, having moved after graduating from art school in Chicago. She's fun and quirky, but so unlike me. The last time we hung out in Chicago I stayed over at her apartment and had the worst night of my life. People were doing drugs in her bathroom and freaking out about their sellers coming to beat them up for not having paid. In an apartment with at least 4 residents, none of whom cleaned, there were an equal number of cats. One of the cats peed in my bed. Once I finally got to sleep on clean sheets Kiva and her roommates broke out in a huge fight of screaming that went on for hours. At some point Kiva's sketchy Russian boyfriend came over and told me proudly about how he cheated his customers where he valeted. Ugh. On the way out Kiva chased down a thug and challenged him to a fight while I hid and cried. So I asked her to please not invite any friends over while we hung out.

We might have had time alone, but her bus came in two hours late. That was two hours I spent in the bus terminal of NY. I saw so many transvestites I forgot what real women look like. When she arrived we had to go over and meet up with her friends; Mark, Dan, and Beth. She had warned me that Mark and Dan liked to make up their own language because words were not expressive enough. Becky, she said, gave excellent hugs (not normally how I determine my friendships), but may not be as huggy since she had recently changed her medication. Uhuh. Without consulting me, they had decided on a place for dinner, 40 blocks away which we had to walk. On the long stroll her friends periodically screamed, tried to fake out cars, took objects from the garbage and placed them on parked bikes. She said they "had a lot of energy" I said they needed "a lot of attention." At the restaurant they smeared their faces with condiments. (Pictured: Kiva, Mark, Becky, Dan, and flowers from the trash)

I was happy to run out of there and join the I-House people for a cultural hour. Kiva seemed so surprised that me and her friends didn't click, which really makes me wonder what she thinks of me. Moooo. I will do my danrdest to enjoy the rest of my weekend.