On Friendship and Sriracha

 

A little bit of sriracha makes everything taste better. I bought some hand-crafted (what exactly does that mean?) Bourbon Pecan popcorn. It was too sugary, but a few dashes of sriracha transformed it, giving it that unexpected hit of spicy lurking beneath the sweet.

And then that got me thinking about people, and how some come across so treacly sweet and perfect. But then, just when your eyes start to glaze over, you get a glimpse of something so much more interesting when, in an unguarded moment, they reveal a streak of imperfection; a sarcastic tone; a morose countenance; a ‘fuck-it-all-I’m-outta-here’ attitude. 

I prefer my people to be down-to-earth, insightful, a bit quirky, outspoken and unafraid to make mincemeat of their words. There’s one woman in my writing group just like that. In fact, they’re ALL something like that! How lucky am I to have these zany, genuine women to share my writing with, to read their stories.

Friendship has been on my mind a lot lately. We tend to overlook its importance in our lives. But when you’re single and live alone, contact with friends is important, especially in a pandemic world. But not JUST in a pandemic world. How we keep our friendships close, how we nurture and sustain them, make allowances for them – daily, weekly, monthly, over the years – this is important. It’s not to be glossed over, taken for granted, or evaluated at surface level.

A friend of mine (again from my writing group; I write about these women often!) lost a friend of hers recently. By lost, I mean her friend died. S said to me, “It’s too early for me to be losing friends.” And I agree. We’re still too young, even though most of my parents’ generation (aunts, uncles, old neighbours, childhood aunties and uncles) are gone, and WE are now the oldest generation. But I’m not ready to lose friends at my age. It’s too soon.

It got me thinking – how would I feel if one of my friends died? A morbid thought, yes, but in our western world we do not do enough reflecting about dying, even though we’re all headed in that direction. It’s a subject to be avoided, pushed aside. But how would I feel? It’s hard to examine, hard to consider, hard to explain. It’s too soon.

The word ‘friend’ is often tossed about lightly. Everyone is a ‘friend’ no matter if you only dine or email occasionally. But that’s not the value or essence of friendship. I had a recent online chat with two friends, one of whom I’ve known since I was two and the other a close friend from high-school. We touched on the subject of friendship (amongst many other topics). Can friends say anything to each other? Does it affect the friendship? We also laughed a lot! Which is often comical and complicated on a zoom or what’s app chat because you never know who is laughing, who is talking, who is listening. But it works somehow, especially when you’ve known each other a long, long time.

Is that then the cornerstone of friendship? Shared history, shared experiences from when you were young? The knowledge of each other’s past? Or is that just a small part of it? And – can you make deep friendships later in life? Not just the surface ones of going out and dining, disclosing your day’s experiences or opinions. But the deeper ones where you can speak freely, can look into the other’s heart and soul, can speak your mind however inarticulate your words may sound. Where you can share your strong self as well as your bad-ass, crabby, grouchy self. Where you don’t always have to be ‘up’, nor do you always have to talk with them only when you’re ‘down’. Where judgement is left outside the door.

Women’s friendships are complex and layered, yet essential to our lives. I’ve picked up this book ‘Big Friendship’ to read. It looks promising.