Brandon James Singleton continues his quest to complete his to-do list before turning 30. This week: Ya gotta have friends.
I’ve been recently doing a little house cleaning. On Facebook, that is. It was time. It was just getting out of control. The status updates used to be so funny, uplifting, with a dash of entertainment. Now it’s like daily multiple posts of this e-cards craze, pet pictures, and the dancers at BJ’s. Well, I suppose some things aren’t that awful to view.
“Hey Ace! I just met you. And this is crazy. Here’s my hashtag (The_HugoBoss) Instagram me maybe.”
Hey, can’t blame a gal for trying.
So here we are. Week 5. So far, we’ve covered Dream Home, Successful Career and Hot Bod. That brings us up to what? Oh yeah. “Be happy with my social circle.”
This one may sound a little weird, but after re-evaluating the last 10 years of friendships, one thing stands out, sadly: They haven’t seemed to last longer than two years. What’s that about?
In my defense, I have also relocated to three different states during that period, and participated in two separate tours. I spent a year having several minor surgeries. So it did make it a little difficult to maintain consistent relationships. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself.
I have a nasty habit that really needs to end permanently. I think I have this inner time bomb that’s set to detonate every time I look a little too comfortable with a group of people. Some call it self-sabotage. I call it a regularly-scheduled shift change.
I just have a problem with finding it way to easy to cut people out of my life over small insignificant issues. At the time, they don’t seem so minor. However, in hindsight, they weren’t really legit reasons to cut people off. Well, besides the one that ditched me at that bar in D.C., and that other one with that little child-molestation charge. Allegedly. Don’t ask. We’re saving that one for the E! True Hollywood Story.
Seriously, it’s never really bothered me before, but, with a new decade peering around the corner, I can definitely accept it’s a trait that I need to lose before Dec. 15. I mean, what’s the point of having a kickass bday party in the City of Angels if — to quote Melissa Etheridge — “I’m the only nne” in attendance. Talk about a party bummer! ELISE!!! I need you! Pack your bags. Kiss Tejas goodbye. You’re needed in Cali stat!
I called my friend Heather from The Bay for advice this week. Her friend Megan has had the title of bestie going on 34 years now. Thirty-four years??? I’m struggling to make it past a two year hump, and these chicks’ friendship is in the double digits and its third decade. What’s my problem?
“Well, what you kids consider friends these days is a lot different. Everyone in the group has slept with each other — at least once. Her boyfriend’s gay. His boyfriend doesn’t know he’s his boyfriend. That’s not an ideal situation for lifelong pals. You just need to find a group of stable people, who just want friendship, and aren’t trying to recreate their own episode of Maury Povich. Do you young’uns still watch Maury?”
She was right about there being a little too much “mixing among the mates.” I usually don’t know about all that stuff until after I join the group. And by that point, I’m usually so confused on who I’m supposed to be angry with that week, I still fail to find out all the details.
Yet, regardless, Heather was right.
But how do I go about starting this process?
Kyle’s moving. I do have Dustin and Jennifer fortunately. But I need a few more waiting in the wings. Just have to be prepared with my lousy history ya know.
Hey Big J, I know we prob should talk a little more frequently, but it’s me. No that’s the other Brandon. Nope Nope. That Brandon lives in New York now. I know. 1982 was a popular year for us. Yep, that’s me! Hello? Still there? OK, my bad. Patience … Fruit of the Spirit. I remember. Anyhoo, if you can just send me a little guidance or possibly save me a pending anxiety attack, and assist me with my latest dilemma, that would be oh so helpful. Your homie, BDog. P.S., if you can make something happen fairly quickly, I promise to cut out the f-bombs for a week!
OH. MY. HEAVENS.
You’re quick, Big Guy. I appreciate it! And just like we agreed. No F-bombs for a day!
So literally while I’m sitting here writing, my old show buddy and fashion diva dancer friend, Jessalyn, texts me to remind me she is moving here this week! Y’all just don’t understand how perfect this is. Jessalyn is a New York girl. She’s straight-forward, honest, legit.
Perfect! So with Jennifer, Dustin, & Jessalyn, I’ve got my Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte. I’m set!
I suppose I have start the search for a Mr. Big now? F*#%, I knew this was too easy! I mean… crap!