It’s a cold winter night and I’m lying in bed, face mask on and laptop open. Behind the thin layer of charcoal or rejuvenating pomegranate, my face is completely stoic. I peruse Netflix’s latest offerings like a seasoned connoisseur. The next ten minutes will be spent exploring the “What’s New” category, even though I already know (as you well may guess) that I won’t click on any of these titles. And sure enough, an hour later I’m three episodes into a night of Friends.
Netflix made news in December when it agreed to pay a stunning $100 million for the right to keep streaming Friends. And while some people criticized the decision, Friends enthusiasts like myself breathed a sigh of relief. Our favorite New Yorkers would remain online for yet another year, ready to Joey Tribbiani their way into our hearts yet again.
Although we’re not all in our late twenties and trying to make it in the big city, there is something that we can all learn from the Gellers and the Bings. Friends is universal. One of my friends from Prague has recently become obsessed with how “cozy” the show is, watching episodes rapid-fire between academic and social obligations. Somehow, Friends has a way of making people feel that everything is going to be alright.
Coming to a college 2,500 miles away from home was probably the scariest decision I’ve ever made. Sometimes being far away from family has a way of making you feel very small and very alone. Then I remember Rachel Green running away from her wedding, deciding to earn her own way in the world for the first time. I was always struck by her bravery, and now, I begin to see myself as brave as well.
Friends never made the promise that life was going to be easy. People lost jobs, apartments caught fire, characters fell in and out of love. But no matter what, at the end of the day, there was always another reason to laugh. I’ve learned that the fastest way to be happy is to stop taking myself so seriously. It’s alright to find humor in a bad spray tan or funny miscommunication. Mistakes are part of being human, and life would be awfully boring without them.
The fundamental message of the show, after all, is that things will continue on ─ the bad, yes, but the good as well ─ as long as we watch out for each other. I remember teaching a friend how to do laundry for the first time and thinking back to the episode where Ross shows Rachel around the laundromat. It’s okay not to have everything figured out, and the people who you assume know what they’re doing are probably just pretending to. We’re all confused, overwhelmed, and a little bit clueless. But at the end of the day, at least we’re in good company.