My friend, Audra, linked to a book on my FB wall that made her think of me and my current situation. My current situation is me looking for a BFF. Locals. I ooze Alberta love and support. (Maybe that’s why my bangs are always greasy?) I need friends to make BC feel like home.
The book is called “MWF Seeking BFF.” The blurb brings up a fantastic point: “…women will happily announce they need a man but are embarrassed to admit they need a BFF.”
I’m just gonna go ahead and say it: I’m lonely. I want someone to be My Person. Will you be my person? What’s that book where there’s a bird or a small animal asking every other bird or small animal if he/she/it is his/her/its mama? (Googled it: “Are You My Mother?”) That’s me. When I’m in new crowds, I have flash-thoughts like, “IS THIS HER? IS THIS MY SOUL FRIEND? WILL SHE LOVE ME THE WAY I’LL LOVE HER? DID SHE HEAR ME FART?”
No pressure. No creepies. Do not be afraid.
I want a close, smooshy, say-whatever, love-each-other-silly local pal. Or two. Or four. (Five is too many, obviously.)
There’s a thing happening this Saturday. A going away party for a woman I met once and then became FB friends with. (Or friends with on FB?) She invited me and it surprised me and I thought maybe it was a mistake. I just looked and SIXTY SIX people rsvped yes. Holy sparkles. I was all set to go and suddenly my brave shrivelled up. But… what if my BFF is there? Wouldn’t it totally suck if she was and it was the guest of honour? That would be a really mean joke, Universe. Don’t do that, k? Not that you read my blog, or anything.
The guest of honour is pretty damn cool; I imagine her circle of peeps to be similar. Maybe someone pretty damn cool will fall in love with me on Saturday. Maybe I just need to be brave and silly and mingley and my fun, wonderful, stalker self.
Or… maybe the couch and my favourite jam-jams are in order?
I just went to the authour’s site. (YES I’M STRUGGLING WITH THIS POST, OKAY.) She has a section for book clubs. One of the questions is:
“By the end of her quest, Rachel may not have a new BFF but she says she has a “bouquet of friends.” For Rachel, the definition of BFF has changed. She realizes she isn’t as likely to talk on the phone with her best friend every night for two hours like she did when she was 15. Families, careers and responsibilities make that impossible. How has your definition of BFF, or your requirements of your friends, changed over the years?”
Well shit. There is no BFF, only a “bouquet.”
I hate flowers. I told you that.
Linking up with just write because sometimes there are words you just need to string together and place somewhere.