#I was asking my friends about last names for Lauretta

[imagination-overreaction]

This just in: Kinsey is voted Least Remarkable Surname in recent poll!

[estudos-sociais]

How to Make Friends

A few weeks ago, I got a note from a reader named Amanda Schockling. She wrote, “I’ve been out of college for 3 years now and my question is this: How do you make meaningful friendships and connections as an adult?”

It’s a good question, but I didn’t know how to answer it. After I graduated, I moved to D.C. for a new job. It was a really tough year that turned into three tough years. I met friends through work, but never felt like I found my people. I discovered that I loved yoga, but never found a community there, probably because you don’t talk during yoga. Maybe if I’d read this, things would have turned out differently.

There’s no one way to make a friend, but there are definitely things you can do to try. I asked The Edit contributors and some co-workers from around The Times if they’d ever had trouble making friends and if they had any advice. Here’s what they said:

If you’re looking for a cheat sheet Jazmine Hughes, associate editor for The New York Times Magazine Making friends is actually quite simple; most people are flattered that someone cool (that would be you, taking my advice) wants to befriend them. If there is a person in your workplace, church group or running club that sets off Potential Friend sirens in your head, here’s what you do:

1) Become a person who is comfortable spouting non-sequiturs. Friendship starts by talking, which means that someone has to start talking! Comment on the weather, or the smell of the room, or something on TV last night … regularly. It’s pleasant to make conversation about something light. Just talk about Beyoncé!

2) Then, once you have built up a rapport with your Potential Friend, you have to DTT: Divulge To Them. Share a very tiny secret, like you have cramps or you’re hung over or you accidentally voted for Bush. This is step one to building trust.

3) The next step is crucial! After you DTT, wait a period of time, and then refer back to the thing you divulged to them! You are creating an inside joke. THE FOUNDATION OF FRIENDSHIP.

4) And finally, you have to ask them to hang out with you one on one. And then again, 2-6 weeks later. Then they should get the hint and ask you to hang out, too. Now you are friends. Congrats!

If you’re in college Kevin Liao, contributor to The Edit When I first got to college, I immediately felt an unshakable isolation. “I must be doing something wrong,” I thought. But I soon found comfort in my dorm’s RAs, who assured me this was a normal part of being at a new school. And while they didn’t magically cure my loneliness, they definitely helped me live with the feeling.

Lauretta Charlton, Race/Related editor I went the University of San Francisco, but my best friends from college went to other schools in the Bay Area. What brought us together was music. I went to shows every week — Bottom of the Hill, the Fillmore, Great American Music Hall — and that’s were I found my crew. There were times when I went to shows alone, and that was hard. But once the band started playing, I forgot about how embarrassed I was to show up solo. Music brings people together.

Hallie Reed, contributor to The Edit In high school I had a hard time making friends, so I tried to make it easier on myself in college. I chose a college with small classes. I pledged a sorority so I would have built-in social activities. I joined the crew team so that exercising would be social, too. It’s gone a lot better than high school so far, but there’s still moments of loneliness even in my sophomore year.

Claire Haug, contributor to The Edit What they don’t tell you when you’re filling out your college applications is that college is an inherently lonely experience. So much of your college life is spent alone, whether it’s studying or doing errands or just watching a movie by yourself on a Friday night because none of your friends’ schedules line up. One of the most valuable things I’ve learned in college so far is how to be alone without being lonely.

If you’re starting a new job Caity Weaver, writer for The New York Times Magazine and Styles The best way to make friends is to be curious about people. This doesn’t mean you should say “Tell me about yourself!” to everyone you meet — that’s disgusting. When you start a new job, transmit the message that you are friendly by peppering co-workers with bite-sized questions about their lives and jobs. Most people will think you have demonstrated good taste by being interested in them. If they give you one word answers, or avoid eye contact, they aren’t looking to make a friend right now. Move on.

John-Michael Murphy, software engineer I worked my first job in a small college town in North Carolina. While there were a lot of young college students around, there weren’t many young professionals in my same stage of life. Being gay in a conservative state added another wrinkle. I never found a group of friends like I had in college. Instead, I wove a fabric of unconventional friendships, many which I still maintain. I made friends with local musicians and scheduled coffee with professors on campus. I found these friends when I stopped looking for people who shared my age and interests and when I stopped letting fear of embarrassment or awkwardness get in the way. Scheduling phone calls with my long-distance friends helped. So did widening the radius on dating apps.

If you just moved Sopan Deb, culture reporter Shortly after I graduated from Boston University in 2010, I moved to New York and started working as an assistant producer at NBC’s “Rock Center with Brian Williams.” I wasn’t the happiest person in the world at the job, namely because the show’s low ratings meant it could get canceled at any second, which is, uh, what happened.

But leading up to the unceremonious axing, it was a stressful experience. Add in a painful break up with my college girlfriend, my head wasn’t in a good place. I needed to find something to help take the edge off.

I took an improv class.

There are two things I recommend to every 20-something year old. Take an improv class and see a therapist. Even if you feel like you’re very mentally in touch with yourself, it’s helpful to talk through things with someone.

And improv is an incredible experience. You get to create new worlds out of nothing. It’s such a social experience that you can’t help but make friends. And even if you don’t, you’re laughing the whole time. And when you are a recently-graduated young professional, experiencing being on your own in a brutal city like New York, you can’t ask for too much more.

Stine Dahlberg, managing director of brand marketing I have a habit of relocating, having done so nine times in 15 years. When I moved to New York a year ago I decided to see it as a catalyst for doing things I’ve never tried before. Continuing Education classes were a great way to meet new people and I got to try new things like graphic design or drawing. Many companies have HR budgets to fund that, use them! And if you can, find a co-working or community space with events and talks. I’ve met so many amazing women at The Wing.

Tim Hatton, contributor to The Edit After four years of living with roommates, I came into this summer terrified to have an apartment to myself and an internship in a cubicle. That’s not to say I don’t like being alone. I do, but I also know that means I’m always at risk of isolating myself. It’s been important to plan ahead and actively make time to spend with other people.

If you’re just getting older Robbie Harms, contributor to The Edit I teach fifth grade, and I often envy how easily friendships form among 10 year olds. Four square, Fortnite, food — all of these can spark conversation. Heck, the mere act of sitting next to the same person for five-plus hours a day is bound to produce at least a few friendships.

In the post-college years, I’ve learned that there is no secret formula, no three-step process that results in an impressive social circle. Instead, I’ve found it’s best to keep it simple: Be kind and approachable. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from my fifth graders.

Claire O’Neill, art director for NYT Climate In some ways, the older you get the harder it seems — when you’re way less physically capable of all-nighters and way too busy for the hours-on-end hangs like you had in college. Over the years, though, I’ve found that all it really takes is one good friend. Someone who you can be totally yourself around, riff and grow with. The click is fast and natural with a person who just gets you, and who you get in return. It’s also way more comforting and rewarding than a big circle of acquaintances who keep you busy, but maybe a little less grounded.

Ian Caveny, contributor to The Edit My wife and I have started a practice we call The Friendship Meal. What happens is something like this: we take a person or a couple and invite them to come have dinner with us. It’s almost always a disorienting thing to begin with — we don’t know them, they don’t know us, and everyone’s pretty shy. And sometimes the meals stay there: shyness and lack of connection, we eat and go separate ways. But sometimes that special spark happens, and, all-of-a-sudden, the conversations last for hours. And that makes the risk worth it!

Have you ever struggled to make friends? Do you have any advice for how to get through it? We want to hear from you. Email us at theedit@NYTimes.com with the subject line “Friends” and we’ll share some of your answers in the future. Please include your full name and location.

[likesomekindofcheese]

At the Opera (Part one)

Pairing: Brian May x F! Singer! Reader.

Fluff! Lot’s of fluff! A bit of angst!

Word Count: 2,000

Content warning: swearing, mentions of boners, Reader and Brian being twice shy, nervous little beans

Context: Brian see’s you make your first big opera debut at school. He falls immediately in love with you. He’s scared of seeming like a creeper, though, and hopes he doesn’t...Switches between his perspective and yours.

Note: I am so excited about this fic I can’t stand it!!!!

First off, I imagine this takes place in the early seventies after Queen I or Queen II and before A Night at the Opera (heh) is released. Secondly, though is written to identify as female, use she/her pronouns, an opera singer, a student, and a soprano, if requested, I can make and send a different version to you. Maybe a reader who is in a musical! Or a straight play! Or is singing a mezzo role! Or a male reader! (etc.). Message me ASAP and I will message a version to you! with your desired version! A second part will be up in time and will probably stop there unless another idea comes. Enjoy and please leave feedback!

Brian had absolutely nothing else to do on a Friday evening except go by himself to an opera by a local University. It was a night where nothing was happening. No work. No papers to grade. No rehearsal. Nothing planned between the band members or his friend. He had those nights before. He was unusually restless. Instead of dwelling in his loneliness he thought he might as well go out. Get his mind from any sadness. And something a little different then heavy drums would be appreciated.

He looked down at the program once he got his seat. “Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi.” According to the summary in his encyclopedia it was only an hour long. If he didn’t like it, it would be over in a wink. After all, when he visited Freddie’s place once he noticed a record of it standing on top of a pile. If it was good enough for Freddie, then it was worth the ticket.

 (You)

“Five minutes until the top!”

“Thank you, five!”

You stay still. You don’t really feel like talking to the other cast members. You smooth some of the white skirt and pray that the food crumble from the pre-performance snack doesn’t show. You were nervous. Tonight you were singing Lauretta in Schicchi for the first time- Lauretta! All of the sopranos in the school who it could have been and it was you! It didn’t matter that it was  not one of the mainstage operas put on with a budget of millions and the biggest stage offered. It was one of your first major roles and you were doing everything you could not to burst. You had barely slept last night from the anticipation and the toll of exhaustion mixed with excitement were bubbling. 

Any wishes of good luck from the cast and crew were forgotten.

“What if the high c’s at the end sound like crap because I was stupid enough not to be able to sleep last night and what…”

“Places for top!”

You took a deep breath, listened to the slow beginning of the overture, and did your best to focus on the story and telling it.

You could still smell the hairspray from your curled hair. The director asked for a more “natural” look to contrast Lauretta from the more exaggerated commedia-esque stock characters and yet it took you longer to do your hair and make-up because your hands were shaking so bad. You wanted to look like the flawless ingenue, but you felt briefly that you were just a toad in lipstick. How could anyone onstage believe you?

It was a while before you entered. Yet you stayed backstage, focusing on the meaning of every last note and word. The singer playing your onstage father, the titular Schicchi, walked up to prepare for your first entrance.  You both didn’t appear until twenty minutes in, but it was getting close.

He smiled and winked at you and then went into character with his smart, cynical frown. You took my place next to him, held the skirt of your white medieval gown as demurely as you could muster, and prepared for the sound cue to enter.

Once you entered, you carried on, just like in rehearsal. Reacting in the moment and singing with the clearest Italian you could and with as much focus on breath as possible. At one point, when Rinuccio, your onstage lover, held your hands, you both began to wail beautifully about how you both could not be married on May Day. You indulged a look away from the conductor to the audience. 

 It was a smaller theatre-actually the smallest theatre on the campus that could still allow a piano and a string quartet.  Plenty of old couples, college girls with long hair and red lips, and close to the middle, there was a very tall, thin, young man with a lion’s mane of curly, brown hair. Ironically, he seemed to be more into the opera than anyone else.

You were back in a second to the opera. You heard  Schicchi’s “Non! Non! Non!”

Naturally, you begin singing your aria, “O mio babbio caro...”

(Bri)

Though Brian was delighted by the opera by the first note and laughing at the onstage family’s antics and allowing the music to charm him.

Then you entered onstage.

“Her eyes are so pretty and expressive…and she’s so small, she’s like a baby bird, oh, if only she was a little bird or even a cat I could hold in my hands for just a minute and her hair seems so soft, and, oh…that smile, oh she’s smiling, that fucking smile, she’s so beautiful and adorable, oh hell, oh hell. Oh fuck, and that voice, oh fuck, that voice. It’s so gorgeous and warm and genuine, oh, I’m so sorry Fred, but oh fuck, that voice, if only she could look at me, please look at me, please look at me and sing for me, just one word, please”

You crossed to a man - who was supposed to be her lover. Brian suddenly felt his stomach drop and his face twist to a frown.

“You git, it’s make believe. They aren’t together in real life...I hope they aren’t

He tried to peel his eyes away to another cast member to see what else they would do onstage that would amuse him. But he kept finding he was stealing quick glances.

When you began your aria, he felt tears well up in his eyes. It was so sweet sounding. 

“O mio babbino caro! Mi piace, e bello, bello!”

He looked down at the translation program:

“Oh my dear papa! He pleases me, he is handsome!”

Brian had a sudden wish he was that boy. He felt the tears fall once he heard of Lauretta’s wish to die if she could not marry him.

“No , no, not you, the boy…”

(You)

You finished the aria. Looking into the audience, You were shocked to see a standing ovation.

Well, that is, one standing ovation. From the tall man with curly hair. And he was applauding like his life depended on it. A few others decided to follow suit and stood up to applaud and cheer. You did your best not to smile. Then once it had died down, Schicchi continued with his line- “Datemi il testamento!”

(Bri)

Brian sat down. He was flushed with embarrassment. How could he have been so…so much? But it was just so wonderful. 

He was sighing once Schicchi sent Lauretta away and you left the stage.

He kept staring at the space where she left. He liked the plot of the opera well enough, but he felt himself leaning forward in his seat with impatience.

Once you  appeared onstage for the last duet of triumph with Rinuccio, He was wondering if that man realized how lucky he was. 

 “I would wrap my arms around her l. I would hold her so tight that she would know she is safe, and everything is alright, now. I would look into those eyes looking up at me, I would pull her in, and then I would lean down so I can reach her lips and kiss…”

He pinched his own hand. “Focus, focus, the story is ending…wait…oh god, what if I have a stiffy! Shit! Shitshitshithshitshit!”

He looked down at his pants. Nothing was showing…that was obvious, at least. He had stopped himself before letting his fantasies go further. Still, he undid two buckles on his belt, just to be safe.

He looked down at the program, flipping to the cast list on the second page.

“Lauretta…(Y/F/N Y/L/N)”

(You)

The cast and crew gathered in the lobby for everyone to say their congratulations. You felt a ping of sadness that your family and friends could not make it. The most they could do was send some flowers, dangling in your arms.

You saw him stand a little in the corner, awkardly. He seemed very quiet. You glanced up at him and felt him glance up at you and your eyes shot back down. Then you looked back up and saw him look down. He was definitely close to your age. 

Finally, you locked eyes for a bit. He swiftly walked to you and the flowers trembled in your arms. You wanted to run behind the stage door and slam it shut, yet at the same time you didn’t.

He walked up and said “Hi, I’m Brian, Brian May.”

“Hi Brian, I’m Y/N.”

Is someone actually approaching me???? And starting the conversation?? 

“ I just wanted to let you know, you were astounding. Your song was my favorite part…and this was my first opera!” Brian said

“Oh wow! Schicchi’s a great first opera.” you say, swallowing. “It’s a comedy, after all, and most people don’t think of opera’ as funny.”

“I loved it! I laughed so much! How do you keep from laughing onstage?”

“I breathe really slowly and focus, Brian.” You dropped his name and froze.

Wow, I must seem forward. But I don’t want to forget it...

“That’s wonderful, and the music is just, just incredible! What is it like to sing it?” he asked.

Your brain began to spiral from your shyness and desperation to seem confident.

“It’s very…it’s, I don’t know, it’s intimidating. My voice is rather small for Puccini, he likes bigger voices, so I was really nervous doing this role. My legs were shaking all the time onstage.”

 It struck you how handsome Brian really was. His height and hair made him seem intimidating, but his smile and eyes were soft, nonthreatening. His hair framed his cheekbones in a way that made him beautiful, in his own way. And when he reached his hands out and stretched out his fingers, they moved as fluidly as a dancers. His speaking was gentle, almost quiet, but clear. Like a kindly fairy prince.

“I couldn’t tell!” he said. He added a smile that made you feel like you were hit by a train.

“It’s the dress! Really! Our costume people were geniuses” you say.

You began feeling self-conscious-didn’t want to appear weird or snobby or ugly to him.

“But you seemed so…so calm and confident. I’m a musician, but uhm…I’m not a classical musician, you could say. But my friend loves opera, so I decided to try it. So I know what it’s like to be nervous about how you do, you were incredible.” Brian adds, folding his arms.

“A musician! Do you play anything or sing!?” You say, it would be polite to steer the conversation towards him.

“Both…uhm…” he crawled in a little “I do sing, and there’s a lot I play, but the guitar is my favorite.”

Guitars, guitars, what can I say to him that would be interesting about guitars? 

“I…I like guitars. It’s such a soothing sound.”

Brilliant, you idiot girl 

“Do you play?” you add, hoping for a save.

He just said he played, crap,  he’s gonna laugh at me.

“Er, yes, yes I do!” He smiled genuinely  

“I play in a band, and I do lots but usually it’s electric guitar. Is there any instrument you play, Y/N?”

“I struggle with piano. I love the sound, but I don’t know how to really play it. Most of the time, I pluck out melodies. It’s partly how I learned this role.” you say. Your face got hot and you felt red as an apple.

“I could maybe…”

There were some clicks, the lights in the back were going out. People were clearing out of the lobby. 

“Well, it’s closing…we have another performance tomorrow.” you add on.

“Any others?” Brian asked. He began to stroke his chin in fascination.

“No, just two… You could tell your friends about it.” You said,

“I will” Brian said.

“Same time, same place.” You remind him, feeling a tiny, shy grin on your face.

There was a little pause.

“Thank you for talking with me, Brian, it means a lot, since it’s my first big role” you blurt quickly. You didn’t want to get locked out of the theater by accident.

“I enjoyed tonight a lot, Y/N...”

“Goodbye, Brian.”

Goodbye Y/N.”

You turned around and walked out.  You realized you were the last to turn in your costume, change, and leave the theater. You were happy with how you sang, but you felt sad. You wished you could see that kind, handsome man again...Maybe you never would. 

(Bri)

Brian couldn’t go to sleep and kept tossing and turning in his bed.

Just one more performance…

He had to go. But he was… was frightened. You were so beautiful and  caring that he didn’t know if he could survive a second meeting without exploding from nerves. You would think he was a creep and the thought of it made him nauseous. He couldn’t go.

At least, not alone.

There was rehearsal tomorrow. He could leave a little early and still arrive to the theater on time. There was enough time to talk one of them, at least, to go...

Deacy would shy away. He would be too worried and his worry would pile onto Brian’s worry until they were a mess.

Roger?

- rather be shot than go to an opera.

 Besides, Roger would guess the real reason Brian wanted to go. The thought of Roger wolf-whistling at you during your aria made him want to crawl under a rock.

That left only one member of the band, then. The one that could help him.

And naturally, the opera fan among them.