Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Golden Girls (I'm really into parentheses)

As a young woman in my mid-twenties with an established group of other mid-twenty girlfriends in Oklahoma, I often find it hard to make (and keep!) girlfriends in my new town of Milwaukee. Every time I meet a young lady here I have such high hopes for her and her cool haircut that I might oversell her in my head, therefore making it impossible for her real, normal person self to live up to my friend standards. You’d think I was doing this on purpose so I could sit around and mope about not having any good girlfriends here and fart with boys. It can’t really be possible that I will only relate to girls my age from Oklahoma, can it?

What’s worse is when I meet a girl and immediately want to hate her. This is something that girls I actually can’t stand do all of the time, but of course I don’t realize this when I do it. But what I hate more than that (lot of hate here) is when I start to like that girl I hated at first meeting. You know, you walk by her at the reception desk and see her cutting her split ends (which is something I do on the regular at my own desk) and sigh with disgust, then find a reason to not make conversation with her on the way back from your bathroom trip (like faking a cough or checking your shoes for tp). But then enough of these bathroom journeys (I've been drinking a lot of water lately, okay?) lead to you hearing her making an extremely well set-up joke (that you would have told a tiny bit better since you are more skilled in the timing department) and you catch yourself giggling. "I was just thinking about this funny thing I said earlier. In my office. With my friends." Then you are working out the next night and she comes up to use the hip adduction machine after you. Next comes an awkward/weird giggle-filled exchange about her not having to wipe off her sweat after she’s done with her machine because you are just going to sweat all over it again and it would be all wet so why bother? Then you are sitting next to each other moving your inner things in a clenching motion pretending to not be listening to the other's iPod. Then the next day you talk to her about how lame you both are at working out and you both enjoy just sitting in the steam room and chatting with gym employees and elderly people. Then you ask her if you can grab her a coffee since you are going anyways.

Then it hits you. You like this girl. Dammit! But then, it really hits you. In your attempt to make a friend who does not possess the eligibility to be in a fraternity or who you have know since before you could legally drink, you may have given her the impression that you like her like her. I mean, you practically begged her to let you stew in her butt sweat last night and then this morning it totally sounded like you invited her to hang out in the steam room with you and giggle at all the old woman bushes. And didn’t you just hear yourself telling another co-worker how pretty you think she is and how good her hair would look in a bob? And now you are cutting your split ends at your desk while intermittently writing a blog about every exchange you've had with the girl!?

Now you are thinking back on those text messages you sent your boyfriend’s best friend’s wife this morning about her showing a little leg…the lezzy connotations are out of control and all you are trying to do is make a g-d bestie!  

The truth is, I'll probably never speak to this girl again because inside my head (and now here) I have this intimate inside joke about me having a weird crush on her and I'll never be able to have a conversation with her without thinking if she is thinking that I'm checking her out. When really I just need to know what kind of conditioner she is using. 

But this is why I only have probably, 3 or 4 ovary-laden pals in the great state of Wisconsin. And not many more testes-laden was, really. Which I used to think was horrible and made me a complete failure of an independent woman. But now I'm counting all of these girls at home I call my real friends...and I have 4. So, as an adult, I'm kicking ass in the friend area. Do you have seven good girlfriends who live in cool places where you can stay for free? Doubt it. 

If I had 267 "good friends" I would be 18, or have my current Facebook page...

Anyways, I guess the moral of this strange tale is that I'm really hard on myself when it comes to being social with someone after a first meeting or keeping plans with people when I really just want to lay in bed and read theoatmeal.com. This is something that seriously plagues me at parties because I can't figure out while all of these people are so friendly...on purpose? Like, we aren't at work. You don't have to fake it! I wish I could blame it on my love of cats (which I definitely can't). 

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