All About Girlfriends

I don't have any. Girlfriends.

Or at least, I don't have a girlfriend that I didn't give birth to, because The Star is fabulous company. And at 13, she hasn't yet gotten too hormonal and impossible. She's really a different blog altogether.

I do have a good friend who lives light years away (Arkansas)--and not just geographically. She's newly married and newly pregnant. She's a Wal-Mart wife. I'm about the same age, but the mother of a tween and a teen and married to The Artist for more than 14 years. We'd hang out if she lived close enough. Instead, I'm saving my airline miles to visit her post-partum.

I'd like to have friends, but meeting people is hard when you're new in a community. My co-workers are nice, but the woman most likely to be a friend is also my direct supervisor. And she lives a long commute away, which makes after-work or weekend socializing difficult. I used to meet people through the kids. But now my children are old enough that I don't need to know and like their friends' parents--just meet them and verify they aren't pedophiles.

So I have virtual friends, a group of women (only one of whom I know personally) whose exploits I follow through their blogs. It's similar to the relationship I have with the Pattersons. I check in every day and feel like I know them--but they don't know me.

I think I could be a Goddess--that's what they call their social group--if I still lived in Lawrence, Kansas. I'd just need to learn to like beer and be brave enough to attend a sex toy party. I could have a cool Goddess name (sort of like a Rollergirl name, but not so violent) and attend Goddess Church at the Free State. (Man, I miss the Free State--last time I was in Lawrence I ate there twice in the same day. Viva Black Bean Quesadillas!) I have the qualifications.

Now that The Star and The Magician aren't babies, I'd have the freedom to hear live music, have drinks and wind down with my new Goddess friends. I'd help Gypsy with her rock'n'roll red bathroom (wall paint is one of my Skillz), I'd babysit Lulu's son Simon and make a special gift for Rikki's upcoming wedding. I'd get a Goddess tattoo to keep the mermaid and the Sheila-na-gig company. I'd share little parts of my novel and sew pillowcases for each of them. I'd tell some of my funny stories--stories currently wasted because the only people I know were there when they happened. Most of all, I'd listen and be grateful.

Goddess Fallen Angel is the only Larryville Goddess that I've actually met. We were both bridesmaids when the Arkansas friend married her Wal-Mart sweetie. I'd known her for some years before that--a friend of a friend. I made a horrible impression on her when we were at the wedding. It was near the end of the beginning of my marriage. I was ready to walk and, being starved for a friendly ear, I bitched about my marriage to the bride. Horror!

I have come to know and love Fallen Angel through her blog. I've read about her personal anguish at losing a baby to miscarriage and her home to a fire, her excitement of heading to grad school and getting engaged, her run-ins with a bad ex-husband and her successful efforts to raise a remarkable kid. Years ago I thought she was flaky--now she's my hero. We have things in common--we've both lost our mothers, our kids have had the same teachers, we both make things--but she accomplishes more in a day than I do all month. I often want to leave comments to her blog, but hesitate since I don't want to seem like a stalker. (I even borrowed part of the design of my blog from hers.)

So one of my goals for the year is to make friends. Girlfriends. Not sure how, but I still have 11 months to do it.

And in the meantime, I'll pretend I'm a Goddess. And a writer.