BoomerGirl Diary

One reader juggles a week of invites from friends and acquaintances who tend to drive her up a wall. Here's how she lied, wiggled, and coped her way through it.

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I love having friends. Really, I do. And I'm a good friend as well. But inevitably there's someone who gets on my nerves. Like a still-single girlfriend I'd donate an organ to, if only she would stop complaining about never finding Mr. Right (does it have to be analyzed every time we hang out?). Then there's the buffoon DH calls his BFF - and even worse, the self-absorbed chick he married!

I know I'm not perfect. And I'm not making my case any better by publicly complaining about people I call friends. It's just that sometimes I have to be in the right mood to deal. Here's how I maneuvered around some frustrating friends.

Method 1

Get out of it: Find any excuse to extricate myself from plans.

You know the friend you love who married someone dreadful? In my case it's my husband's buddy, who has a wife I shall call the Ice Queen. No bones about it: This woman is cold. I need a parka in her presence. When we're invited to meet up with them for brunch (hardly her idea), I suggest DH go alone. I try not to seem rude - in fact, I encourage him to make it about guy bonding. They don't see each other often (her idea, I'm sure), and I come off as the understanding wife who doesn't try to step in on his social outings. This would also be a perfect time to get my brows waxed, the car waxed, the floor waxed - all of the things I had been meaning to do but did not have the time.

Verdict: Everything got waxed, and I enjoyed some free time browsing at the bookstore. I certainly missed my hubby - we don't get much alone time as it is - but if I had gone to that brunch I would have felt anxious and uneasy. Being at DH's side wouldn't have been all it could be (like, fun!). And I saved myself from making snide remarks aimed at the Ice Queen's chilly demeanor after the fact, which might have caused us to argue. When DH and I were reunited, we were thrilled to see each other and happily spent the rest of the day alone, just the two of us.

Method 2

Have less one-on-one time: Invite others along or suggest an interactive activity.

We have this friend, let's call him Chip. He is the nicest guy you will ever meet. He is also the biggest talker you will ever encounter - and he's kinda gross. He's funny and warm and loves to hang out with us, but his social filter is clogged. Sometimes I don't think he even knows we are talking. So how do I balance seeing him without being sick of him? My plan has two parts: First, I suggest we widen the circle and ask some mutual friends to join us for a day of Chip. There is strength in numbers. The more there are people who have things to say, the less Chip will get a chance to speak. It's also easier to say, "Eww, stop telling that story!" when others are making lighthearted gagging noises to back you up. Second: We don't do dinner. It makes for a captive audience, which I don't want Chip to have. Instead we actually do something. Bowling was a perfect choice to keep everyone active, and it provided lots of things for everyone to chat about.

Verdict: Time with Chip was - nice! By beefing up the crew, it felt more like a party than one-on-one, and it allowed me to disengage when I needed a moment. Combine that with an activity, and it's a can't-miss remedy. A museum, a cooking class, a run in the park - anything other than just sitting and eating will work. It's not always possible to gather a gang, but even changing the setting does fine on it's own.

Method 3

Suck it up: Go with the flow because friends are friends - and they'd do it for me, right?

Even though this seems to be the most honest approach, it is the most difficult for me. I don't like to waste my time with people who ignite my short fuse. I love my friend Cat, and have known her since grade school. But she has a big chip on her shoulder about being single. As if her pity party isn't enough, she's not a woman of action: She'd rather lament about the lack of suitable dates than actually go out and meet men. This time I decide to prepare myself for her onslaught of relationship issues and remind myself to take deep breaths.

As soon as she started in on her date deficit, my whole body tensed up and I wanted to flee. I wanted to shake her and tell her to shut up! But then I thought back to that time in high school when we took a pottery class together and made funny busts of each other. It reminded me that it is possible to have fun with Cat, and that we all go through ups and downs. I diverted the conversation to her new boots, last week's episode of "Scrubs," chocolate cake. I wanted to talk about anything (even her dog's eczema) except her love life.

Verdict: It wasn't as painful as I had predicted. And that was part of my problem: Going to see her when I had a negative mindset meant I never had fun. This time, I let her vent for 15 and then changed the subject. She never veered back to her love life, and I ended up staying out with her for two hours more than I had intended. If you can remember why you became friends with someone in the first place - or why DH likes his always-gassy fraternity buddies so much - it helps erase, if not lessen, the burden of being there.