Back to the topic of friends. I have some really good friends. But over the years, the majority of them have abandoned me. Oh, not in the sense that they don't speak to me, (well, most of them anyway.) but that they have their own lives. Husbands, children, pets, obligations, responsibilities. And in the manner that people have when they get older, they have taken jobs. And in the taking of these jobs, had to move. A teaching job here, a nursing job there, an insurance job up north, a hair stylist to the stars to the west. None of them thought to ask me what I thought of their move, they just packed up their families and possessions and left. So, although I know that I should not take their moves personally, it still leaves me feeling abandoned.
My husband knows that I have been feeling sad about this for a long time. I have literally no one outside of my family that I can call for a late-night, kids-are-in-bed visit to the coffee shop. Or a Sunday I-am-at-home-with-just-kids visit to the mall. So, he has implemented operation "Find Us Friends".
I feel like we are filling a position. "So what do you think you can bring to our table?" so to speak. He will come home from a day of fishing and say, "I met the nicest guy today! His wife is a nurse!" or "I talked to this guy from Greenbriar, and they have a little kid Colby's age, AND he likes to barbecue!!" (For Marty, this is the social apex. The only thing better would be Jimmy Buffet knocking on the door with Coronas and the keys to his biplane.)
Maybe we could put an ad in the paper. "31 yr old couple w/ small children seek the same, for companionship, dinners, playdates. Must have own vehicle, and enjoy boating." But I am afraid we might get a small crowd of swingers at our door, misunderstanding our intentions.
Last night was one of the "interviews". A fishing buddy of Marty's. He, like the Gandhi of Greenbriar, likes to fish and barbecue. Marty is writhing in rapture, convinced that he has found them. Our New Best Friends.
I wouldn't go that far. Don't get me wrong, they are super nice. They are the only people other than ourselves who just put their kids to bed when they are tired. No pleading, no rocking, no laying with them, none of that stuff that wears me out just from watching the parents try to cajole little Caroline to her crib, or bribe little Ben to his bunk. Just lay them down and out they go. And we had a lot of laughs playing cards. (Marty and I used to pass our childless years with round after round of cards and games. But Marty is one of those people who win every game. We could play Barbie Fashions of the 1950's Trivia, and he will beat me. Don't get me wrong. I am not a sore loser. But everyone reaches a breaking point, where they start to feel that the continuous losses must mean that they are a subhuman, a recreational idiot.) We had a lot of laughs.
I just didn't see us becoming close friends. I can't see me calling her at 11:00pm because I am sad that my daughter said "You need to work out more" when there wasn't enough room for both of us to lay on the loveseat. Or asking her to meet me at LaHacienda for margaritas on a weeknight.
I wonder where Greenbriar is, exactly?
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