Skip to main content

First friend-date

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?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ottomania!

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about ottomans. A ridiculous amount of time, actually, given the number of other things I truly should focus my thoughts on. I find, though, that when the world outside gets scary (and scary is a truly relative term these days) I turn to online shopping for things I don't really need. Actually, it's more like online browsing; I rarely purchase. I spend hours searching for, oh, erasable colored gel pens or standing desks or all-natural curly-hair gel or the perfect black sweater. (Yes, these are things I've fixated on over this winter; I still haven't clicked "buy" nor settled on any of them.) This week, it's ottomans. By the way, my girl  BrenĂ©  Brown would call this behavior numbing . I'm okay with that. Because online browsing is way less detrimental (so far) than chain smoking, which is what I'd really like to do when the world is scary. It's a way to escape, to daydream, to focus on things tha

What all parents should do

When accepting one of her Emmy awards a couple weeks ago, Tina Fey thanked her parents for "somehow raising me to have confidence that is disproportionate with my looks and abilities. Well done. That is what all parents should do." I couldn't agree more, Tina -- about the job of parents, not your looks or abilities. (For the record, I think Tina Fey is one of the most brilliant women out there, and lovely to boot.) I was also raised by parents who gave me confidence well beyond my looks and abilities -- even though they didn't have much confidence in their own looks or abilities -- and I am constantly grateful. In hindsight, I realize my mother struggled with terrible self-esteem, but she somehow projected all her hopes and dreams onto me. She told me every day that I was smart and beautiful and could do anything; she never missed an opportunity to tell me she was proud of me. (And the worst punishment in the world was to hear her say "I'm disappointed in you