It is in the nature of every human being to want friends. We don't all look for them and we definitely don't all find the true sort, but we can say with something like 99.9% certainty that friends are something we all desire (preferably to fall into our laps, and not literally).Some people who actually make the effort to look for friends (usually because they can't get them by waiting for them to magically Apparate into their lives) are very specific about what they want the friends for which they are searching to be. Right down to field of employment and legality of marriage.
OK, so I was bored at work this evening (naturally), so I engaged in what any other purely egotistical worker would do - I surfed the Internet. Specifically, I Googled for interesting blogs. Being the know-it-all that it is, the omnipotent Google spewed forth a veritable Niagara of time-wasting resources (as is its wont).
Among them was this entry, musing on the indubitable benefits of Craigslist. Until I stumbled upon it half an hour ago, the term Craigslist would merely have conjured up the image of a tattered, coffee-stained shopping list that the permanently-single-still-living-with-his-mother-forty-three-year-old-Craig leaves lying around and never gets around to fulfilling. Now, however, I am so enlightened that I feel slightly dizzy.
The uses of Craigslist primarily consist of classifieds for every damn thing under the giant gaseous star that you could ever possibly want to acquire - jobs, furniture, a membership in the Precious Planet Pluto Protesters Posse (how many times can you say that fast without wanting to cut off your tongue?), as well as the ever-useful commodity of people (although, unfortunately for some, Craigslist doesn't offer them for sale).
As far as the offer of people goes, Craigslist provides space for personal ads: strictly platonic, women seeking women, women seeking men, men seeking men, men seeking women, misc romance, casual encounters, missed connections, rants and raves. I can't quite fathom what the category of misc romance entails, but I must remind myself to have a look when I'm feeling bored again. I love the euphemism for one-night-stands: casual encounters, as though you're just passing each other by in the street and one of you drops your briefcase and the other helps you collect the assortment of stationery pooling on the pavement, and after the thank yous and you're welcomes have been issued you both just turn away and keep striding off into the cemented, skyscraper distance.
What made me feel slightly dizzy was not this perfectly standard categorising but an ad in strictly platonic in the Boston Craigslist entitled "Press only if you seek company of DISTINGUISHED lady - w4m - 58 (Belmont)". This lady happens to be very distinguished in the art of list-making - her ad is over a page long in printing terms, contains over twelve descriptions of her personal preferences and character (e.g. patient, favourite colour: blue), so this cookie knows exactly what she wants. She requests a legally married man - has she had bad experiences with illegally married men? - employed in business, law, engineering or a couple of other dull but worthy pursuits.
Just goes to show how discriminative we can be towards our future friends. In kindergarten we tend to gravitate towards those who are playing with cool toys; in primary school it's all about who fancies whom, which member of the latest boy band is cutest, and what's in the sandwich you have for lunch. Secondary school gets a bit more complicated: if you don't know anyone from previous experiences, you'll think yourself tremendously lucky to somehow manage to find someone who will sit with you during breaks.
Many people acknowledge that high school is the most difficult to stomach of all the levels of education, despite the thought of the whopping $20,000 Student Loan you will have at the end of your tertiary studies - a New Zealand concept - that is enough to make even the most stoic of humans nauseous. In university you are free to be your own person: wear whatever you have been stashing away in your wardrobe since you discovered Death Metal; voluntarily sign up for an Astrophysics course without being embarrassed, because fifty other people signed up with you; eat your beetroot and spinach sandwich in peace without having to answer to anyone. University is a paradise for those skulking in the high school shadows.
Until you face the debt at the end of your degree, of course. Then you'll wish you were back in Saint Cuthbert's College, failing Maths/English/[insert worst subject of your choice] and getting beaten up at lunchtime by The Killer Bees.
But you can always go on Craigslist and find a friend. If he/she is rich enough, perhaps they can sponsor you to do your degree. If you don't want to trawl through unsatisfactory candidates, take a leaf out of The Distinguished Lady's book and write a preferred CV for the eligible position of [insert your name here]'s Best Friend Forever. Or form a band - who needs anything else?
The Radio Dept. - I Don't Need Love, I've Got My Band
Just goes to show how discriminative we can be towards our future friends. In kindergarten we tend to gravitate towards those who are playing with cool toys; in primary school it's all about who fancies whom, which member of the latest boy band is cutest, and what's in the sandwich you have for lunch. Secondary school gets a bit more complicated: if you don't know anyone from previous experiences, you'll think yourself tremendously lucky to somehow manage to find someone who will sit with you during breaks.
Many people acknowledge that high school is the most difficult to stomach of all the levels of education, despite the thought of the whopping $20,000 Student Loan you will have at the end of your tertiary studies - a New Zealand concept - that is enough to make even the most stoic of humans nauseous. In university you are free to be your own person: wear whatever you have been stashing away in your wardrobe since you discovered Death Metal; voluntarily sign up for an Astrophysics course without being embarrassed, because fifty other people signed up with you; eat your beetroot and spinach sandwich in peace without having to answer to anyone. University is a paradise for those skulking in the high school shadows.
Until you face the debt at the end of your degree, of course. Then you'll wish you were back in Saint Cuthbert's College, failing Maths/English/[insert worst subject of your choice] and getting beaten up at lunchtime by The Killer Bees.
But you can always go on Craigslist and find a friend. If he/she is rich enough, perhaps they can sponsor you to do your degree. If you don't want to trawl through unsatisfactory candidates, take a leaf out of The Distinguished Lady's book and write a preferred CV for the eligible position of [insert your name here]'s Best Friend Forever. Or form a band - who needs anything else?
The Radio Dept. - I Don't Need Love, I've Got My Band
