Friday, February 27, 2015

Add Friend *click*

I have something I must share, because keeping it to myself and to my immediate environment just isn’t doing a bit of good. I’ve been praying about it, and have asked other people to pray about it under the guise of the “I have an Unspoken Prayer Request” umbrella of vagueness. I feel I must apologize in advance, because I feel that I’m going to hurt people along the way, but I won’t apologize for my feelings as that’s exactly what they are: MY feelings. All that being said…

Newsflash: I don’t have any close friends. Really.

I spend a LOT of time online, particularly on your favorite site and mine: Facebook. By a lot, I mean hours every day. Yes, every day. I hear what you’re saying, “Go out and do something!” “Take a walk!” etc. That’s just the thing. I want to do those things. I want to do things with a friend. Do I spend too much time on Facebook because I don’t have any friends, (and I’m seeking a connection in any way possible) or do I not have any friends because I spend too much time on Facebook?

I knew it was a reality, but it was harshly shoved in my face when I recently turned 40 and I had no one with whom I could celebrate. Sure, there’s the family thing, but no one called me up and excitedly invited me for a celebratory birthday lunch/coffee, etc. I went out and treated myself to a cupcake. Alone. Now, I didn’t expect for the population of metro Birmingham to come rushing to my door, but I have to level with you when I say I felt completely alone and forgotten that day, as I do most days. It felt like an ordinary day, if I’m being honest.

I’ve been largely friend-less since I was a senior in high school. I’ve met people and have lost touch, moved away, grown apart, etc. over the years, but there’s only been maybe three people over the past 22 years who I felt really had my back in a time of need. I don’t even have college friends, sorority sisters, or anything of the sort because I really didn’t “do” college. I had a lot of drama in my life at that point in time and it just didn’t work out. Regardless of the cause, I missed out on that portion of my life. Even if I could return to college, it’s not like I’d fit in with the standard crowd. It’d be nothing short of hysterical and pathetic to see a 40 year old woman trying to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma.

Right now, I don’t feel like there’s anyone I could call if I had an emergency in the middle of the night. You know, THAT kind of friend. The one you text at 3AM because you NEED her. The kind that doesn’t mind if you text her at 3AM.

I have TONS of acquaintances; people I see regularly and people I see infrequently. It’s good to have acquaintances and contacts as you call on each other from time to time for a favor, etc.. but there’s no one person (save my husband) with whom I feel I have that strong sister/friend bond. I crave it so very much. The kind with whom I can share a silly inside joke that will still be as funny in 20 years as it is when it’s first shared.

Most of the time, I feel like I just don’t fit into the invisible mold that’s around here. You probably don’t even know it exists unless you have lived elsewhere. Everywhere I go it’s as if I’m standing on the edge of a circle of people holding hands. You’re privy to what’s going on in the circle, but you’re never an actual component of the circle. You want someone to unlock hands with their neighbor and have those two links grab your hand and pull you inside, but it doesn’t happen. I try to dress like the locals and natives do. I try and engage people in conversation by trying to be funny or witty, or talking about something they’re interested in. Nothing ever clicks. I can’t seem to find anyone who shares my interests, or vice versa. I’ve lived here in Birmingham for more than six years now, and some days I feel like I just moved here two weeks ago. I don’t know why I can’t make a connections. At times I’ve honestly wondered if I was so off-putting that no one wanted to be around me, or if I smelled weird, or was just too fat to be seen with, or just too weird/annoying. I get jealous and depressed when I see groups of women/moms going out for a night on the town, a concert, etc. I long to be a part of something that’s beyond my iPad screen.

People say their friends live in the computer. Right now, that’s exactly where mine live. One lives in Texas and the other in Iowa. They’re the only people I have that I can spill my guts to and still ‘look them in the eye’, so to speak, the next day. They’re wonderful, lovely, trustworthy people. But as much as I love them, they can’t come hold my hand in the middle of the night if I needed them to do so. I can’t call them up and say, “Meet me at Starbucks in 20 minutes!”

So, may I attempt to sell myself? Not in a prostitute kind of way, but in a “contents include” kind of way.

I like/love:

All things British/English. That includes the monarchy. I follow what they do, but not in a stalker kind of a way, just in an ‘I’m fascinated by this lifestyle’ kind of way. I do enjoy the occasional hot cuppa. (That’s hot tea, in case you didn’t know.) I have an unhealthy obsession with cramming my head full of facts and trivia relating to England and their monarchy and the kings and queens they’ve had over a thousand years. I’m even known to occasionally say ‘God Save The Queen!’ (and sometimes I’m not joking!).

I adore Starbucks. Ask me for a coffee date and I’ll almost always say yes.

I love spelling and grammar. I love to correct other people’s spelling and grammar. Please don’t shy away if yours isn’t perfect. Mine isn’t always perfect either.

I’m a professing, practicing Christian. I’m into Jesus. I’m into God. If you’re not, that’s okay. I can still love you as you are, (as Christ has commanded me to do) because Jesus loves me as I am.

I have three noisy, sassy kids. I call them The Vikings. They’re loud and rowdy and they leave a path of destruction in their wake, that’s why.

I have a Rottweiler that lives in my house. She’s a big baby. She will lick you to death before she will bite you. I say weird things to her in German to make her bark and growl.

I adore overpriced purses and handbags. Don’t make fun of me because I will spend $300 on a Kate Spade handbag. Don’t give me a hard time because I want to own a Louis Vuitton, despite the fact that they cost nearly $1,000. I don’t drink wine, alcohol, beer. I don’t buy shoes and I wear clothes from Target. Purses are my vice. Stand next to me when I walk into Saks Fifth Avenue and fork over 11 $100 bills to own a designer bag.

My favorite color is blue.

I am a certified child passenger safety technician, or CPST. I install car seats and will tell you more than you ever wanted to know about some of them.

I love cake. Like seriously LOVE cake. I am a cake snob. I don’t like grocery store cake. (Yes, Publix, Sam’s and Costco have GROSS cake.)

I like different kinds of music. I will sing to the point of embarrassing my kids if “MY JAM!” comes on while I’m driving. Loosen up and sing along with me. Or tell me to loosen up and shout it out with you.

I like Apple products. Don’t expect me to understand how to unlock your Android device and I won’t expect you to use my iPhone.

I love history and talking about history.

I love makeup and I’m not afraid to drop $18 on eyeliner.

I’m weird. Super duper weird.

I occasionally like to speak in different accents. Just roll with it if I bust into Jewish Mom from Long Island mode.

I’m fiercely loyal. I expect you to be that way too.

I will keep your secrets. If you tell me something in confidence, I will not blab. It’s not my news, or my place, to tell.

Those are the things that immediately come to mind. Maybe if you become my bestie, we can expand each other’s horizons.

It’s been really hard to write this. I’m sure it’ll be even harder to publish it, and then share it to Facebook so it actually gets read. I’m scared now. Scared of what people are going to think after they’ve read it. Will I be met with pity the next time I see some of you? Will I get a sideways glance because you think I’m nuts? Some of you are probably reading this and just think I’m pathetic. I don’t know. I do know that I don’t want to hear “I’m so sorry” or any other sympathetic pleas. What I want right now is a friend, and after sitting and waiting for so long, this is the only way I know to reach out.

Disciple I people, this has been my Unspoken. Now you know.

Who’s ready to be my bestie?

1 comment:

  1. Dammit, I wish it could be me, like for realz, me. I love all those same things, and I love the stuffing out of your muffing fijitny.