I spent time today with a new friend from my neighborhood, and right now I'm basking in the glow of a good first friend-date. I feel happy to have a new friend. Sounds so corny, doesn't it? She's easy-going and down to earth, we both have young kids, we have similar tastes in books and movies and music, so conversation is easy. I like her sense of humor, too; she's intelligent and there's a spark mischief in her smile that is just fun.
We joked about today our "first date" -- you know, the first time you get together as a twosome and try to get to know each other -- and as much as we were joking about it, it really did feel like a first date...mentioning snippets about our personal lives in that off-hand, quick-summary-of-me sort of way that says this is who I am, like it or not; giving small compliments; laughing at one another's jokes. And then when we parted company, I had a moment of "oh, I hope she liked me!" and "oh, I hope I didn't say anything embarrassing or offensive!" (I wonder if this is the reason that men don't really form new friendships after a certain age, because it feels too much like dating and that just makes them nervous.)
When we moved here last year, I had immediate dreams of making connections with people and really putting down lasting roots. I wonder if that's why I get so excited when I find a new friend in the neighborhood...and I wonder if this friendship will be like some of the ones that my grandmother has with the mom-friends who she got together with for play time with her kids, who became the grandma-friends she played bridge with every month, who became the old ladies who still call her every Saturday afternoon to chat -- 55 years after their first friend-dates.
Wouldn't that be nice?