For the past few weeks, I have dedicated myself to finishing all six seasons of "Sex and the City." Before this endeavor, I had never seen a full episode and had always stared blankly at people when they asked if I was a Samantha or a Charlotte. For those who are still in that deprived stage, I recommend you beg, borrow or steal the episodes immediately.
To pay homage to the most famous fictitious columnist of the modern media, Carrie Bradshaw, I have pondered as she does and styled my prose after her wonderful and frequently AIM profile quoted work.
Throughout the show, the four main characters go out and about in New York City, their home and only real true love throughout the entire show. They meet people, have sex with people and have relationships with people, sometimes combining all three. People enter and leave their lives, and I wonder about our lives here at U.Va. We may know the importance of our own Charlottes, Samanthas and Mirandas, but what about our cameo friends?
In a lifestyle of only semester-long classes and vaguely remembered nights at bars, how many episodes must people be in our lives for us to consider them main characters?
It's happened to all of us -- the moment you're walking to class and see someone you had a discussion with two semesters ago. You still check the person's away message. But do you say hi? When is your lack of acknowledgement rude or simply awkward?
People seem to remember faces and names a lot better when aided by a little alcohol. We're all adults here, or at least we're trying to move in that direction, and yet a surprising number of people only feel confident saying hello if they're holding a Natty. Does that say something about the type of friends we are? Is the only time people deem me worthy of their approval when they no longer have control of themselves? Or to the contrary, we might all be intimidated by each other so much that when our only fear is last call we can socialize.
If that's when you find yourself saying hello to me, chances are I consider you on the same level as one of Samantha's sex conquests. They might be on more than one episode, but their actions are predictable every time.
I have less self-confidence than Samantha, however, and I always feel a twinge of inferiority if I glance at someone who I recognize, only to have them get up and use the restroom.
Then you have the people you genuinely like and have sober conversations with -- but only when you run into them, which might not be very often. She happened to be in another class of yours this semester, or you both eat lunch at the same time everyday. These friendships can be the start of almost anything, but before that happens, someone has to make an effort. Someone has to ask the other to grab lunch together, to go out on Friday or to watch a movie. Otherwise, as soon as your class schedule changes or you move the next year, that relationship might get cancelled.
I swore as a wise high school senior that I would never regret anything I did. I reasoned that life is made of mistakes, and I cannot punish myself for something that occurs so naturally. As we grow older and even wiser, though, I realize that certain things should be regretted, and not making the aforementioned effort to befriend someone is one of them.
Great friends in this world are few and far between, and missing out on one because you didn't bother to ask them to come hang out one time should be regretted. I'm not a big believer in fate. It would be too convenient to say that you two were "never meant to be."
As we search through our 20-something years, who will we keep in touch with as we leave our University bubble? Shoulders you have cried on for four years might be across the country, and even that special someone suddenly isn't in the house across Grounds. Our lives will change in the next 10 years more than they might ever in the rest of our existence. Finding and keeping friends seems like it should play second fiddle to getting the career on track. There will always be other people around right?
But our lives might never settle down.
A seventh-grade girl I rode the bus with everyday in middle school is a main character in my life still. She may not appear on the screen all the time, but she's always considered in the writing. That makes her infinitely more important to my plot line than the "Hey, how you doing?" Corner acquaintances that I make and forget about every weekend.
Life is a series of coincidences and situations. We must take the other people involved in this random events smorgasbord and place them into appropriate categories. The process takes time and effort, but knowing that you can call your Mirandas, Samanthas and Charlottes at four in the morning because you can't stop thinking about a cute guy or because you got in a fight with your mom makes turning the cameo appearances into multi-season characters all the more worthwhile.
P.S. Any guys still reading this, trust me, you'll enjoy "Sex and the City," too. I've already gotten two guys addicted, and they're the type of guys that drive way too fast and do other manly things. You'll like it.
Clare can be reached at Ondrey@Cavalierdaily.com
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