They call it a loop, but why is it a double-edged sword?

Every Monday since Memorial Day I find myself asking the same question to a friend of mine. She is the kind of friend that you can count on for adventure (like the time a self-proclaimed female religion teacher dropped trou in a bathroom of a bar in front of me, or the time we decided to drive a local bar owner home and close his place for him), the kind that gives me a compliment when I really dig for one, and the kind that loves to analyze boys (more so now that she has recently reintroduced herself to the dating pool). The answer she gives me is never the same, but by the end of our dialogue I am usually filled with some degree of jealousy.

The conversation usually goes down as something like this:

Moi: "How was you weekend?"

Her: "I don't want to tell you."

Moi: "Why?"

Her: "You'll get mad at me and yell at me."

Moi: "Why?" (at this point I'm suspicious that she did something really bad)

Her answer usually includes one of the following points: "I was in the Hamptons partying with tons of fun people that you know and I met a cute boy and he myspaced messaged meand we're going on a date and we had a dance party and it was the best weekend ever."

Moi: "I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooo jealous." Sigh.

I'm happy for her, really I am. She deserves to have all the fun she is having. But so do I. And I need it.

This all started last summer, when I found out that a lot of people would be hanging out in The Hamptons. Now, I can't complain too much, I was on a free ride in London for six weeks...BUT...I learned what it was like to be really and truly out of the loop. It sucks. It didn't help that I was going through some sort of "Who am I?" exestential crisis and terrorists were bombing my main mode of transport, but to hear that fun people were partying beachside without me, that just hurt.

At least last year I had an excuse, I was across an ocean dealing with college kids, terrorists and lots of touchy feely guys. This year my excuse is much more humbling and in truth, kind of pathetic. I'm. broke.

As I have said time and time again, my best friend in the whole world and my sister are both getting married this year. I am the maid of honor in both weddings. I am so happy for them and I love being a big part of such a memorable occasion in their lives but let me tell you, I am now effing broke.

Not only am I broke, I find myself occupied almost every weekend until August. Between dress fittings, outings, birthdays and holidays I really have to check my book to see if I have time to hang out with anyone. And because I'm never around for any of the drunken Hamptons fun, I have been left on the sidelines, still pale from the winter (although Jergens has hooked me up a bit), with no Grease-style summer lovin'. I have no gossip to share with anyone, so the normal even exchange of fun weekend tales of debauchery is one-sided with me. So yea, it sort of sucks.

But then I thought about when I was actually in the loop. That sucks too. EVERYONE knows your business. Who sleeps with who and dates who and has a high school makeout session with who is open season. I have some experiences with the power of the Westchester gossip mill from my Freshman year of college. Strangers knew my business and it wasn't always pretty.

Now that I am out of the loop, my life is sort of mystery to alot of people. No one knows where I was last weekend...or who I was or was not with and what I was or was not doing.

And at the same time, I don't think any of them really care. Therein lies the dilemma. In the end, I wouldn't have my summer any other way. Would I switch spending a day with my friend while she tries on her wedding dress to any drunken night? Never. Would I blow off a good friend's birthday party to get myself back on the radar and in the loop? Nope.

But vow that every Monday, I will call my Hamptons connection and listen to her stories with anticipation and jealousy, and live vicariously through her tales of tanned men and drunken poolside fun. It just makes me more excited for August, when I will actually visit her mythical Hampton's house, and undoubtedly do something that will keep the gossip mills talking for years.



**Note, please exscuse the lack of picks. London is in France right now and I am writing this post on her computer because mine caught an STD. So, I don't want to download any pics on snaggle toothed babies or princesses kissing frogs for her to view when she gets back. Sorry, it's a very textual post.**