I’m finding that people are coming here after googling for various terms around “friend zone.” I guess I’ve said something about that before.

Inspired, I wanted to see just how close to the top I came in. I’m sixth. Not bad. Third if you search like this.

Does that matter? No freakin’ way! But it’s fun.

I looked at the entry for the number two slot and wanted to send it a blogosphere amen because the guy hit the nail on the head. In the past week I’ve been told that I have a nice ass and that I look sexy in a suit (after a memorial service, so I either get bonus points for overcoming sadness or negative points for distracting from the point). In the past 28.75 years I’ve been told that I’m one of the good guys and yet only two women saw fit to follow that to it’s logical conclusion and be in a relationship that include myself. And one of them was pretty crazy in a not-so-fun way.

So yeah, I get it, J.D. So does Erik.

And Erik is right. The Friend Zone is a way to avoid the scary adventures of life and love and friendship. For both sides. Putting the guy (or girl) in the Friend Zone and accepting the existance of the Friend Zone and your presence in it are just ways of saying, “This is how it is and how it will always be and there’s nothing to do to change it in any way so just sit down, shut up, and watch crappy television like a good citizen should.”

Which is clearly wrong.

So what next?  I’ve got no freaking clue. I’m sure that not worrying about where the Friend Zone is and isn’t and where I am in relation to its borders is probably a good way to go for just about everyone.