Why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? (or, erm, is it just me?). When I moved to Barcelona from New York ten years ago, I was fresh out of college, with a huge group of university and high school friends. I remember feeling homesick my first few months in Spain, especially before I got a job, as I went to the beach, movies and markets, alone, not speaking the language and not able to express my stellar personality. Eventually, after years, I remember throwing a big bash for my birthday. Looking around at the 40 or so people gathered to drink, eat, and watch me do a painful rendition of Sweet Child O’ Mine complete with Axl Rose signature dance, I thought – wow, I’ve really made a lot of friends over the years.
Then I moved back home. And while I have friends here, and my dear BFFs, I’ve lost touch with many people. Over the years, the gap that was left by my departure has sort of filled itself in. People change, move on. I decided I had to make an effort to reintegrate…branch out…put a stop to my antisocial tendencies. But how to go about it? Can match.com make a findmeafriend.com? Is there speed-friending?
Enter my girl date. When a friend recently visited from Barcelona, we went out in NYC with a friend of hers that recently moved to New York. Later I thought that perhaps, being that this girl was “new” here too, I’d ask if she wanted to meet for coffee. It felt strange e-mailing someone I barely knew to ask her to hang out. Did it make me seem pathetic, stalkery, weird? I worded and reworded the e-mail. Debated not sending it. Suddenly it felt worse than a first date!
When she responded that she’d like to meet up, and seemed excited about doing so, I got all giddy, complete with butterflies in stomach. I felt instant relief for having put myself “out there” and not getting rejected. But then more worries set in: what would we talk about? What if there was nothing to say? What restaurant should I pick? What should I wear? I now have a newfound respect for men who have to take us girls out on a date…it’s absolute agony!
I wrote to my friend in Barcelona , who suggested I make a list of topics of conversation. Like a job interview, I’d have to know how to talk about my strengths and weaknesses and why I thought I was good for the friendship. “She’s worked in publishing too…likes travelling…and she likes lobsters,” my friend offered.
“Great,” I said. “So I’ll just open it up with, ‘Soooo, heard ya like a good lobster?”
“Also, she’s tall, so maybe you should wear heels,” my friend added.
“I’m tall too! I’m 5’7,” I scoffed.
“Yeah but you slouch.”
In any event, the big day is Thursday and my closet is a disaster. Should I get my roots touched up too? Joking and anxiety aside, hopefully it will be a ‘friend connection.’ But if not, it did seem like the checkout girl at Starbucks and I had a lot in common by the way she handed me my chai latte.
*Special thanks to Jana Lia for editing my silly spelling errors, helping with ideas for my ‘date’ and this post, and finding me a friend.
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oooooor, you could come back to barcelona where you already have friends!
ReplyDeleteYou'll be fine, it's like riding a bike....sure you might be rusty for a minute or two...but with that lobster opening, you're golden!
ReplyDeleteThe same thing happened to me when I first moved to Barcelona, and I remember the first time a new friend called me to ask me to do something. I hung up the phone and squealed and jumped around like I was 13 and Marty Moore had asked me to a dance (which he never did, but how I wished for that and practiced the delighted squealing).
ReplyDeleteIt takes time, you know. Now I can't walk down the street without running into someone I know (ex-coworker troll or no), and I had about 75 people at my last birthday party. Yes, that's right, I'm that popular.
Oooh, I'm so excited for your girl date tomorrow night! I hope it works out too, because you're both great gals, and there's the bonus that I could be like the Yenta of friend dating. (Don't forget: It's especially lobster sandwiches.)
I'll never forget my first man-date. His name was Ricardo. We met by chance in the poetry section of Barnes 'N' Nobles. He was lost in Ginsberg and I was just...lost. We made eye contact. I nervously asked where I could find the books section. He laughed and made a gesture that seemed to say 'all around us.' "Oh, right of course" I mumbled. As I began to walk away he proclaimed "'Poets are Damned... but See with the Eyes of Angels'...Ginsberg." I turned around. "That's so beautiful" I said. He asked if I liked poetry, and I told him I'd never heard of it. He insisted that I allow him to read me some at his chelsea apt. I agreed. Our man date consisted of typical man stuff that men do when they hang. Poetry (which I now know about), wine, the latest pet shop boys cd, dancing, cuddling. Well, there were a few more things but I won't get into that ;)
ReplyDeleteSo enjoy your wo-man-date Amy. Hopefully yours will be as magical as mine was.
I should not read ECOL's comments while eating a meal. When I read the following line, I laughed so hard that avocado shot out my nose:
ReplyDelete"He asked if I liked poetry, and I told him I'd never heard of it."
And I really like avocado.