If this is a friend, I'll take lasagna

I'm finishing up Truth and Beauty and am stymied. The book is all about the friendship between Ann Patchett and Lucy Grealy and from what I can see, Lucy Grealy was no friend to Ann Patchett. According to Patchett, Grealy told Patchett not to wear a particular skirt because it made her look like a slut, only to come hopping down the stairs wearing it herself. (" 'Gotcha', she said.")

She FedExed Patchett her overdue bills (at Patchett's request) and allowed Patchett not only to organize, but to pay them. When Patchett started dating a poet, Grealy supposedly was furious because she was to be the only poet allowed in Patchett's life.

If only we stripped out the not-friends, there'd be so much more room. If we stripped away the flaky friends and the unaccountable ones, the ones who disappear for months on end and the ones who make Saturday-night plans with you, only to flake without a word, there would be room and time and honesty. If we kicked out the friends who sit in our living rooms, eating the dinner we prepared for them, and the next day write emails to our husbands promising I'd totally fuck you, the wedding-caterer-turned-supposed-friend who wants your advice but has no problem ignoring you when you show up for a scheduled meeting, the ones who hug you after a night out and say "Good seeing you", as if you were some distant aunt from Tampa ... if we said adios to these people and meant it, there would be breathing space. There would be time and room for the right kind of life.