My Lisa 4: Intoxicating

Oil Painting on Canvas, 36” x 36”, 2023

$5,600

My Lisa 4: Intoxicating

Lisa jumped right off the pages of “The Preppy Handbook” and into my life. She stood in the doorway of my dorm room in a kelly-green cable knit sweater and dock-siders, and she had decided that I was going to be her friend. Although I was initially turned off, I ultimately couldn’t resist her giant smile and mischievous eyes promising adventure and intrigue.

Being friends with Lisa made me “cool”. She made me feel like we were at the center of the action at bars, football games, parties, and even the library. She could turn an ordinary evening into an epic journey, and she never ran out of steam. Late at night we would walk arm-in-arm back to the dorm, reliving our exploits, laughing, skipping, and singing.

For the next two years, we lived and travelled together. Lisa’s friendship was intoxicating—like having an inclusive celebrity sister combined with the best counselor at summer camp.

The following year, Lisa studied in Switzerland for six months and I missed her. But when she returned, she had transformed. Superficially, her preppy attire was replaced by a Madonna goth affect—messy and sexy, fishnets and black lace. More dramatic and disconcerting was the way she looked right through me. She ignored me in our shared apartment, while dancing and singing songs in French. She was aloof and callous as I tried to rekindle our old magic. I felt confused, wounded, abandoned, and strangely outgrown.

Lisa lives near Denver now, and every few years we make polite conversation at college reunion get-togethers. Does she feel as awkward as I do? Does she even remember how close we were? Why am I still hurt by the way our friendship ended?