A tart, a chip dipped in spinach, a carrot on the side

Please revel in your friends. That is, be aware of those whose eyes light up at your story when you tell it for the third time in one night. Remember? That story about the kids you nanny for - about the time the little girl said...oh, that's right, I've already told you this one, haven't I? She just shrugs and tell you it's no matter - "Tell the story again!" she says. You're at the climax of the story, at the punch line. And so you do finish it, even though she already knows the end. And her blue eyes shine with admiration at your excitement. You are grateful for that, but there's no need to thank her with words. Instead, thank her by suggesting a coffee date. And at that coffee date, let her tell any one of her stories as many times as she would like. And your eyes will shine at her punch lines.

Be aware of the friends who cook you food. The ones who are willing to try new recipes with you, who know the distinct difference between havarti and guyere cheeses, who cut up sixteen onions with you and, as you both weep from the odors, reminds you how good the french onion soup will be. Savor the meal with this friend; the food you partake in represents the attention your friend gives to small details. She is worth every compliment you give her. The tears from onions are worth it.

The friend whose schedule and yours never matches so often so that you resort to jokes about meeting in July, about a coffee date in 2012. Behind the jests are desires to be with one another, to share lives over a drink, over a meal, over arts and crafts. In my experience, it is worth all the mundane efforts to find a time that works, the "How about 4:00?" that's met with an "Oh, that's the exact time I need to babysit". Or, "What do you think about Saturday?" and you must say, "Can you believe I've just scheduled something else?" And she laughs and says we'll try again in a few days. Albeit an hour when you finally do meet, her mannerisms as she plays with her skirt and uses her hands to tell stories remind you that whatever time you have together is precious, so incredibly fleeting. And then, then, what about your friend who lies on your bed at midnight and reads pages from a book she's let you borrow. You doze off, imagining the "what-ifs" of your life - if it was like that character's, so bleak and uncertain. She reads, and gives the New Yorkers accents, and the Parisians accents, and you doze off. And you sleep.

What about your best friend? Oh, what is that? Why yes, we are engaged to be married. Yes, it's all coming up soon. Ready? I can't imagine being more ready. His eyes..? You've asked about his eyes. Why, haven't you ever heard they're windows into the soul? My father said that, too. Oh, his eyes. Well, if they can tell you anything then let them.

His eyes are honest and kind.