A little nondefensive, understanding yet detached response goes a long way. Here's the e-mail my friend wrote me in response to the above. I'm still chuckling.
Quote: Okay, that old twenty-twenty hindsight is kicking in. First of all, I'm sorry. I realize you weren't asking for advice and even though I appeared to be giving it, what I was really doing was flailing in the mud of failed attempts at humor. Sorry for being such an idiot.
Second of all, I'm there for you whenever you need it. I didn't think you needed me to be there, so I wasn't there. Sadly, I was being actively not there and maybe I could have been a little more there than I was there. Sorry for that.
Thirdly, I pledge to be supportive of you for the rest of my life. You can take that to the bank. Unfortunately, I'm stupid and often forget my manners and when I'm supposed to be supportive. If so, feel free to slap me around a bit and remind me I'm being an ass. Oh, wait. Re-reading below, I can see you do feel just that free. Excellent. Oh, and sorry.
Lastly, I know it's impossible for something as petty as the rest of your life to interfere with a friendship like ours, but let's not even pretend it might. It's scary to even think about that.
Love (idiotically), [MF]
p.s. Sorry. p.s.s. Sorry again. psst: SORRY!
And my big news of the day is: There is no news. Nothing. Nada. Crickets chirping. Tumbleweeds tumbling. And I leave to catch a 6 a.m. flight at 4:30 (that's in the A of M).
So, arriving home now after running errands and attending meetings all day (and stopping to have a little pedicure en route), I have to pack and get some peace, I mean, sleep.
I'm really debating: Call or don't call? Call to say good-bye? Don't call? Wait a little later and then call, right before I go to bed? Don't call?
