Disclaimer: my husband is my best friend. I like him a lot. We're cool like dat. He gets me/I get him. We tight. He's the jam in my donut (or, more precisely the chocolate cream fill to my donut), the yin to my yang, the holy to my canoli. Yadda yadda yadda. Lacking a true BFF is not what this post is about.
Now, I proceed:
Then in college I had real friends, too! A whole new breed of them... Fun, amazing and amazingly independent and supremely individual - not to mention wicked smart - women. (Sorry if I offended any of you friggin sweet feminists by calling you "women". Delete and reinsert your own adjective as you will). I had a few guy friends, too, but, really, I finally bonded with some serious, driven - in completely radical and fantastical directions - women.
Now, I almost feel like a deserter, a traitor, a real Benedict Arnold. I might have become some kind of semblance of what I always said I'd never be (i.e. the kind of girl who drops everything for her guy and drops off the face of the planet only to resurface somewhere east of Stepford - where they aren't gorgeous and perfect). Only, I'm guessing that any of these righteous babes would probably have been able to tell you that I would, in fact, drop off the side of the Earth when I met a beau. I'm just single minded like that, I suppose, and I was always looking for love. In my defense, my husband is really REALLY cute! But fast-forward three or four years and now I want my life back. The fun, social part with a few minor adjustments (like, two kids, a husband, two dogs and a house on the border of two suburbs) - I'm not looking for the wild, let yoself be free and let come what may kind of nights. But as I try to recreate a friend base I find myself tripping over stumbling blocks. As you'd expect, things have changed. The friends have stayed cool and interesting and interested in cool things. And, well, I've dropped off the planet into the abyss of diapers and Sesame Street characters, only to resurface fluent in Sesame-ease. And, Backyardigan-ease, and, Kipper-ease, and, Caillou-ease, and Pingu-ease. Shoot me. I honestly don't know if I have anything of substance to offer them right now.
It's not that they don't want to hang around me - the truth is I'm sure that most of them would love to see me, but I feel really awkward and have to, lamely, stick close to home. Which is not really close to anyone else's home. Plus, my mouth rarely utters a word that doesn't have to do with babies, toddlers, sleep, poop/pee or food and chores. And, what person wants to talk about that crap. Cuz, I know I don't. So I kind of feel stuck between a rock and a hard place: get cool and brush up on awesome shiz and cool blogs, or meet new friends with interests and lifestyles similar to my own. I've decided to try and do both.
I've met a few new coolio mom's within the past six months, though we're pretty far away in travel time and have different kid/nap schedules. One friend moved away and I MISS YOU. Erm, I mean and I miss her. =) I've joined a Meetup.com and MOM's club around my area to find more local people. Oh, and I think I've made a friend in my neighbor, who's going to have a baby right around the time my youngest turns one. I can't wait to meet him!! I love little babies! I like all these folks a whole lot, so I'm thinking that this is a "where there's a will there's a way" crowd and that we'll be hanging out more as the STUPID WEATHER gets better.
That's all for now, as I have to go join my BFF in sorting our paperwork so we can file our taxes. So we can be, like, rich and stuff.
