I know for me to write about this in the shadow of Jonniker's post it's like a gorilla painting with its own feces as compared to Caravaggio, but I need to take inspiration as it grabs me. Otherwise I'll just sit here looking at a blank screen on Blogger wishing I had something...anything to say.
I didn't have many friends growing up. A quick glance at the limited number of friends on my
Once I moved to the UK, my distinct lack of friends and friend-making ability became readily apparent. I made one friend through my job, and that was only because she's a rather forceful, outgoing personality who is hard to not befriend. I adore my other co-workers as well, but they are all in their early to mid 50s, and much as I love them, it would be too strange to hang out with women my Mom's age outside work.
I wouldn't know where to even start on this whole friend-making venture. How do you make new friends outside work when you are an adult? For whatever reason I think of a dating tip I have read on far too many occasions - meet a member of the opposite sex while grocery shopping! Bond over a common love of nearly ripe mangoes or orange juice without pulp! I think of making platonic friendships the same way. What, when I'm shopping for a new pair of jeans do I compliment the woman standing next to me on her stellar taste in denim? Is a friendship really going to be forged over a mutual love of Gap apparel?
The internet, thank fuckery, almost puts this touchy subject to rest for me. I have friends! Real, live, breathing people who think I'm a cool person. They think I'm occasionally clever and witty! No, really they do! I send emails to people in which we have long conversations about babies, music, movies, celebrity gossip and even s-e-x. I won't tell you who I talk about that with though, lest her (or his?) cover as a buttoned up old prude be compromised.
I suppose the internet doesn't completely avoid that uncomfortable will-she-think-I'm-one-step-away-from-wanting-to-wear-her-dirty-panties-on-my-head-if-I-email-her situation. There have been many times that I have sent emails to bloggers I admire greatly, proofreading what I've written 10 times and pausing before I hit "send". I have a great fear of seeming a bit too friendly, which is frankly absolutelyfuckinghilarious given my real life persona of detached, anti-social mute. Yet in initial emails, I'm terrified of coming across as a) simple or b) like I am fully ready for some action.
I think this arises from my girl crush from the previously mentioned Large Chain Bookstore. I blogged about her before, long story short - hot girl, funny, smart and lovely, Pru has a very sapphic-influenced dream about said girl, and as such got all stuttery and nervous around hot, funny, smart, lovely girl. She was surely freaked out by me, since I was doing my best impersonation of a pubescent boy who has never gathered up the nerve to talk to a girl before without his voice cracking or getting a slight boner.
Six years later and I'm still suffering from this paranoia. I sometimes want to spontaneously email a blogger that I've never contacted before, but I don't want to come off as a sociopathic fangirl. I do wonder sometimes how I've managed to make so many wonderful internet friends who don't think I'm a complete freak, unless they are freaks too of course.
If I do ever decide to email you out of the blue to say how much I love your blog and your writing, rest assured that I am boner-free and have the very best of intentions. I don't even want to wear your dirty panties on my head.