sometimes they attempt to read your palm in the laundry room (though months later you find you have to do it yourself from a 10-or-25¢ HOW TO READ PALMS manual [more on that later {and by later i mean eventually}]).
sometimes they draw pictures of you feeding pigeons and accidentally give you chicken pox on your left shoulder. (sometimes, these same friends also draw chicken pox-style polka dots on your shirt at work. you then become the only employee with chicken pox-afflicted letters on her back.)
sometimes they cook you things (read: noodles, chicken, and roast pork buns) and make you tea when you're too lazy to do it yourself.
sometimes they introduce you to new worlds about vampires in various formats and even burn you dvd copies of them (which come in handy when your father suddenly decides he wants to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer [and then, twenty minutes later, denies that he made this request]).
sometimes they may introduce you to other people (RULES: people with seussian rhyming names, not so great. people who are remarkably like your [buffy-watching] father, pretty sweet).
or, sometimes, they're there to offer you insightful comments, such as,
"are you getting tinier? your boobs look smaller. not that i have reason to stare at your boobs, but i just happened to look, and i saw them, and they're not as big as they were. i mean, maybe they are and you just look smaller. not that i notice your boobs or pay particular attention to them, but, fuck it, i did, yes, fine, i looked at your boobs and noticed that something's different about them. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT TRUE FRIENDS DO."
(i thank them all.)
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