A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you. -Elbert Hubbard

Because I am something of a social butterfly, I make it a habit of having best friends. People are always saying to me, "Man, Kate. You sure do have a lot of best friends," as if it were a bad thing. I can't help that the people I surround myself with are inherently awesome. I also can't help the fact that I am clearly so full of sunshine that everybody wants to be my friend! (That last part, very obviously, was a joke...)

I like to consider myself lucky because I have like, fourteen best friends. I mean, there are some poor souls out there who can't even claim one! But no sir, not me. I have scores! It's like I have one for every day of the week (Or one for each of my personalities. No, I kid.): I have my High School Best Friend, my Musical Best Friend (and that covers like six people), my Fashion Forward Best Friend, my Non-judgemental Best Friend, my Party Girl Best Friend, my Jack MacFarlene Best Friend (who can also be grouped in the "Fashion Forward" genre), and my "I can hash out all my neuroses with you because you're just as crazy as me!" Best Friend. (And you all know who you are.) For me, everything is coming up roses because these people are my soul mates. They get me. And they CLEARLY have good taste.

Have you ever heard that saying? It's something about, "Mess with one of my friends and I'm like a mother hen protecting her chicks..."? (Or whatever farm animal. I'm sure there are more intimidating ones...) For me, that's so true. I mean, I don't have a temper (Hahahaha, I clearly kid. I'm Italian and German! There's all kinds of crazy up in these genes!) but- ugh, okay. I do have a super, crazy, genetically predisposed bad temper but I almost always keep it in check because pent up rage is only cute when Jenni "J. Woww" Farley does it. And plus, I'm a classy lady and must behave as such. But stirring up trouble with said classy lady's friends (or family, husband or dog)? God help you, friends.

I've got two words for you: PASTA SAUCE. Graceless behavior just boils my blood. Know this.

Now, please don't misunderstand. I don't fight. Oh, no no no. First of all, I'm barely 5'3": Let's be real and second, I pay good money to look like this and if I broke a nail because of some insulting garden tool... Well, I would be no better than them. So I choose to be a cold, restrained brand of b-word. Most of you have seen it at one point in time, so there's no need to further elaborate. (But needless to say, my sugar turns to ACID when I'm scorned.)

I once had this friend that I was semi-close with. I use the words "semi-close" because she is one of those ladies that I find to be really different than me. That is certainly not a bad thing; it's just that I found it more difficult to bond with her because we were so different. But regardless, we had about a million mutual friends and were constantly bumping into each other at social outings. So I put my classy panties on and tried to forge a bond with her. It didn't really work, to be honest. But we remained cordial...

Since, however, something of a rift has been created. Things have happened, insults were thrown and now there's this looming problem. Not one, but two of my aforementioned "best friends" have been affected by this lady I've since deemed The Succubus.

Obviously, as easy as it would be for me to shift ALL the blame on said Succubus, that wouldn't really be fair because she's not TOTALLY to blame. However, to her credit, she has stirred up more than her fair share of garbage. (A lot of which, I've been forced to deal with first hand and quite frankly, it's super annoying. I don't appreciate that at all.) But there were actually a lot of other people involved in this tragic farce. One of which, was a man. Can you imagine? A man causing drama? Talk about a curtain raiser...

But we all know how these stories end. This isn't the first time the influence of a man has poisoned friendship and it certainly won't be the last. We've all seen it before and taken part in some weird brand of love atheism. But you would think that being an upstanding, classy lady in your twenties would leave you immune to this pestilence. Quite the opposite, actually. It seems to be enough to condemn you.

Moral of the Craziness: God help the mister (yeah, God help the mister) that comes between me and my sisters! (Listen, before you judge me, I ask you: When are Spice Girl lyrics NOT appropriate? Oh, that's right! NEVER.) Your friends love you despite your chronic alcoholism, your sometimes charmingly cranky demeanor, and your likelihood to eat an entire loaf of Chicago Italian bread in one sitting. (Okay, so those three may just apply to me but everyone has issues.) So be good to them. They know how crazy you are, how much whiskey you drink on the daily, and probably all of your secrets so treat them nice! And it wouldn't kill you to put on that brave face and smile once in awhile... because sometimes that's all it takes to remind your friend that you aren't in dire need of a lobotomy...

The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You've just got to find the ones worth suffering for. -Bob Marley