While reading a book about friendship and pen-pals, out of nowhere, my old grade school pen-pal reached out to me. She found my name through a Google search and then looked me up on Facebook. A real blast from the past! Her initial message was so warm and friendly, I couldn’t help but smile. I responded in kind and we chatted a few more times back and forth over social media.

After a while, the excitement wore off and the messages became further apart and less fulsome. I decided it might be fun to meet up in person and as it happens, she was now living in a fun city that I was planning to visit. So, I reached out and told her I was coming, with my daughter, and we’d love to meet up for dinner, drinks, or whatever she suggested. I gave her the dates of our trip and the name of our hotel.

I never heard from her again! I sent a followup message, hoping she had received mine with my information, i.e., dates and hotel info. And I reached out upon our arrival. Crickets.

What gives?

Disappearing Ink

That is a very odd turn of events, however, not overly surprising. She may have misunderstood and thought you were coming specifically to see her – and she may not have been up for that. Or perhaps she didn’t want to introduce you around to all her haunts because a fulsome explanation would have to accompany every greeting. Maybe she painted a false picture of herself and her life figuring you’d never meet up in person. Or there could be numerous other explanations.

The ball is in your court, as they say. You could message her with concern, hoping she’s OK and tell her where you went and what you did while in her city. And you could tell her that you look forward to hearing from her again. But I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. You don’t really know each other or owe each other anything other than decency.

I studied library science and have lived all over North America and the UK revamping libraries. I absolutely love my job! At the second library I ever worked at, I was paired up with a woman of similar age and credentials, and we hit it off. We have worked together almost exclusively for the past two decades – and we are still as close as ever.

She got married first, but I wasn’t far behind. As a result, our children are very close in age, and some are quite good friends. We don’t look alike, but we have basic similarities: blonde hair, blue eyes and almost the same height and weight. As a result, and in our line of work, we dress with similar style and colour choices.

Yes, we have come to work dressed the same, but that doesn’t happen often. Usually though, we have something the same, whether it’s the same pair of pants, or the same colour shirt, or a variation. We honestly don’t do it on purpose, but we’ve heard other women make snarky comments. How should we respond?

Twins NOT Twins

You shouldn’t respond. In any way. They’re just petty and jealous. You two are lucky to have each other and you should enjoy every glorious aspect of your friendship. Women should expend our energy lifting each other up.

I think it’s cute that you dress so similarly that you sometimes twin. And it makes sense, if you’re besties, have similar features and styles, and you’re out shopping together. Life doesn’t have to be a competition; it can be a shared experience.

FEEDBACK Regarding awkward doctor’s office (April 2):
Reader – “Sometimes I find doctors and dentists chatter on about anything that will distract the patient from the discomfort they may be experiencing. It can be used successfully in many cases, especially with children, although this woman found it bothersome.”

Lisi – Good thinking!

FEEDBACK Regarding love lost (April 2):

Reader – “I may be wrong but as someone who has been through it, it sounds like Love Lost's wife is depressed. He should suggest they go to a doctor and have her talk to him. Come to think of it, she should have a physical exam too.”

FEEDBACK Regarding odd duck (April 3):
Reader – “While the teacher certainly sounds decidedly lacking in charm, the key points are that the daughter loves the class and has a 95 per cent average.  It’s highly unlikely a child would love a class if the teacher had it in for her.”