Happy Monday, loves! How are you? Just another day here in San Francisco. I finally caught up with Breaking Bad last week and now spend my time counting down until the next episode airs on TV. Lame city, I know. What I did realize, though, is that I can’t complain about not making friends here if I spend all my time in bed watching meth deals and salivating over Jesse Pinkman’s gorgeously bearded face. So. Now that it’s over, I guess it’s time to get back out there.
I’m aware this sounds like a dating ad. That’s because dating and making friends are pretty much one and the same. Making friends is DAMN HARD. At every stage in your life, you’re grouped with people the same age as you and stuck together for days, months, years, living quarters, and classes, so friendships come naturally. Then once college ends. If you’re lucky, you meet people at your job. If you’re unlucky, you spend a lot of time stuffing your face with ice cream and going on long walks by the ocean. Obviously I don’t do that.
There is literally nothing that terrifies me more than talking to strangers in group settings where I know no one. My hands start sweating more than usual, I can’t have a conversation without waving my hands around, and I get really awkward. Fun fact: when I was little, I used to make my sister call people on the phone for me because I didn’t want to talk to them. Moving on…
I guess I’m going to have to put in some effort. There are a couple events in the next couple weeks that I would LoVe to go to but usually wouldn’t because I don’t want to go by myself. This time, I’m going. We’ll see if I actually make it to the event before turning around.
PS – Loved this section of Sarah Dessen’s Friday Five last week. “How can something be so hard sometimes and not so bad the others? If I knew, I wouldn’t ask the same question constantly about writing. Ideally, I write at the same time each day, in the same place, with the same two chocolates to warm me up. Some days are epically hard, others just somewhat, and occasionally you get one of those golden ones where everything is flowing and wonderful and two hours pass in, like, ten minutes. I guess yoga—or running, or anything else you do even when you don’t always want to—is the same way. Starting is the hardest part. There are tough stretches, some that are excruciating. But when you are done, you’re never sorry. Sore, yes. But not sorry.”