By Stephanie D. Lewis
Ever have an unbearable “friend” you didn’t choose, but because your families were thrown together, you had to just grin and bear it? Competitive Faye was someone I’d finally escaped from my teenage years, but she suddenly surfaced on my Facebook (she thinks it’s called “Faye’s Book!”) requesting her reentrance into my world. Nooo! She’s one of those obnoxious “One Up You” types. So now whenever I write a happy update, Faye immediately posts her own “Ecstatic” status. And because I’m an honest Facebook user (meaning everything in my life isn’t butterflies and unicorns) sometimes I’ll put up some depressing news. In the blink of an eye, Faye will elaborate on a catastrophic personal tragedy on her own newsfeed. (She keeps an endless supply of cousins needing open heart surgery for this very purpose.) So basically when I’m happy, Faye is far happier. And if I’m downtrodden, she’s Fantine from Les Misérables! Can anybody say, “Get a life?!” Oy!
So I tracked Faye down on Instagram and innocently captioned a sweet photo of my daughter attending her first prom. And guess what? Faye somehow acquired a daughter of her own who (naturally!) got invited to three different proms AND was crowned Prom Queen at all of them. Seriously?! Unfortunately then I had a car accident and was taken to the ER in an ambulance so I posted, asking for prayers. But… wait for it…Faye was sandwiched by two semi-trucks and airlifted by a helicopter to ICU in a coma. God himself, left a holy comment blessing her. And on and on this nonsense went… I’d make crème brûlée and caramelize the sugar with a disposable cigarette lighter? Faye created baked Alaska flambé with a culinary torch! I bid my Jewish followers, “Happy 8th night of Chanukah!” Faye wished her friends a wonderful 9th day and even located a menorah with a bonus candle!
You may say this is just pure coincidence and it’s not all about me, but I beg to differ. When we had our last solar eclipse, I posted this: “Oh dear! The rebellious part of me peeked at the sun with my naked eyes and now my vision is blurred. Anyone know a good eye doctor?” Immediately Faye’s status was this: “Gosh my husband (the most incredible ophthalmologist in the entire world!) says all the crazies are coming out after the recent eclipse. Well, whatcha gonna do? At least it puts our kids through the best ivy league colleges!”
Fluke? I think not. Just to prove my case, I discovered Faye on Twitter and clicked “Follow.” Then I tweeted this: “Oh no! Found more nits in my daughter’s hair today! #NotLiceAgain!” Needless to say, a new tweet from Faye surfaced: “Daughter has lice, dog has fleas, kitchen has ants, basement has termites! #TheTenPlaugues!” She even outshines me in pestilence. What petulance!
On Pinterest, I put up pins about turning a spare bedroom into a movie theater. I clicked on her Pinterest account – she’d added photos of her long, narrow hallway being newly remodeled into a bowling alley! After friending her on LinkedIn, I made sure my professional title prominently stated I was now a Published Author. Of course, instantaneously Faye was promoted from boring “Technical Writer” to “Award Winning Screenwriter!” Grrrr.
Alright, this means war! That’s why I’m writing this column in L’Chaim magazine to publicly expose her. There’s only one problem, Faye lives on the east coast and thus she’s three hours ahead of me. I just read her NYC column in Mazel Tov magazine which begins like this…
“Ever have an unbearable “friend” you didn’t choose, but because your families were thrown together, you had to just grin and bear it? Weirdo Stephanie Lewis was someone I’d escaped from my teenage years, but my mother insisted I be a nice person and friend her on Facebook. Noooo! I grudgingly did so for old times’ sake. Next thing I know she’s stalking me on Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and LinkedIn trying her best to upstage me. So creepy! Can anybody say, “Get a Life?!” Oy!