Social Arithmetic

I blame it on the media. Thanks to our favorite TV shows and movies, we all think that our 20s will be nonstop Sunday brunch, happy hour drinks, and dinner parties with a cohesive group of friends. It's all lies.

If life were like "Friends," we would decide to get two apartments right across the hall from each other in a New York apartment building. None of us would need real jobs, and life would just be hunky dory all the time. Books/movies like "Bridget Jones" teach us that we'll have a friend family of 4 or 5 people, and we'll celebrate holidays together and meet up every night after work.

Let's get back to reality. The twenties are a rollercoaster that yanks us back and forth between feeling brilliantly on top of the world, and feeling completely and utterly alone. All of my friends -- whether they're engaged, single, living with friends, living alone -- seem to go through phases where they just feel heartwrenchingly depressed and confused about life. How is this possible? Most of us have a solid network of friends, a job that we love, and a pretty good (if not great) living situation. Really, we have nothing to complain about.

Never fear, we're human. We're pros at finding things to worry about and whine about. And I truly think a major part of it is that the media have misled us into thinking we'll have these close groups of friends. Except in rare situations, I don't know anyone who has that elusive cohesive friend group. Instead, most of us have strong one-on-one relationships with many friends who know one another as "the one I went to college with" or "the one I studied abroad with." Occasionally, when I feel wildly daring, I bring several friends together. It's a constant search for the perfect combination of friends that has the right dynamic, where no one overpowers anyone else, and everyone has enough in common that we can all contribute to conversations.

Since I think highly of Friend A and think highly of Friend B, then presumably, using a twisted version of the Transitive Property, Friend A should think highly of Friend B. The problem is that the mathematics involved in bringing together friends is a phenomenon straight out of the Phantom Tollbooth or Alice in Wonderland. Certain friends are never allowed in the same room together because the combination of their personalities might cause the northern hemisphere to implode. Other friends seem like the perfect combination in theory(music friend who I love, meet other music friend who I love), yet put them in a room together and you'll want to dropkick both of them. Rarely do you actually get to experience that magical moment when you feel like you've introduced a friend to The One (no, not The Romantic One, but The Platonic One) and you get so excited that you have a group of THREE for Sunday brunch from now on.

It would be so easy if someone would just write some theorems so I would know which friend combinations would make me want to shoot someone, and which would make me swell with pride at my ability to matchmake friends. I know my dream social mathematician is out there somewhere, so let me just give you an idea of what I'm looking for here:

Loud artsy friend + Loud artsy friend = 80% failure
Quiet, sweet friend + Loud artsy friend = 50% chance of awkwardness
Theatre friend + Theatre friend = 90% chance of instant excitement, with 80% chance of hostile arguing (same formula for intense music friends)
Old close friend + New close friend = 70% chance of awkwardness, followed by 80% chance of competition

Clearly, these are some sad statistics. Could someone find me some more uplifting numbers? Doctor the books, if you have to. Give a girl some hope!

I'm constantly searching for the perfect formula, and I'm not alone. No matter how fulfilling and supportive a one-on-one friendship is, sometimes you just need a friend family. The other night, I saw a photo on my roommate's bulletin board of 6 or 7 girls squished around a table, everyone in mid-laugh. Are these days gone?

These days, when I do gather a group of friends, I'm so distracted and worried about the group dynamics, I'm barely mentally present. Are we ever able to get back to those carefree group days? Now, there are always people who don't know each other, and someone's busy playing host and introducing everyone with conversation starters: "Madeleine, Laura works at a publishing company in NY and has her own jewelry business." My favorite nights were kitchen nights. We've all had them. You don't really have any set plans, so you have a few people over, and you end up just sitting at the kitchen table talking and laughing, and before you know it, it's too late to make it out to the bar before last call (note: in Boston, city of Puritans, this doesn't take much...1 am comes quickly).

Being the optimist I am, I'm pretty sure this will all get sorted out in our thirties, when we're not all in such drastically different places. Until then, if you have a friend family, please consider adopting me. I bake cookies.