Want to be friends?
This is a silly thing to say. But it is an eternal mystery to me how grown-up women go about making friends. It’s not as easy as it was when I was ten. I can’t just start a Peter Andre club and ask you to join. I have a lot of people that I like, a lot, and speak to when I see them. But how do you leap from that to sharing your deepest secrets over cheese toasties? I don’t know. I still don’t. I am shy and pretend not to be, which doesn’t help. When I meet someone I like, I want to go up to them and say I JUST LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. LET’S BE FRIENDS. PS I LIKE YOUR JEANS.
Well, how else do you do it? Should I carry a note saying ‘Will you be my friend tick y/n’?
I was at an evening of workshops for women last night. I needed it: the communion of discussion, the solidarity of sitting with good women, the exercise of learning, the stillness of thought. I drank it up like it was the super deluxe Coca-Cola of my dreams, if you want to get metaphorical about it. I was filled with elevated ideas. I left feeling like there were so many interesting, funny, kind people I wanted to know better.
And so to you, you marvellous people who come to this blog. I have been feeling very grateful for you, lately. I love getting notifications when you comment. I love writing it, and I love that you read it. Thank you – it means so much to me that you’re here.
What do you think about cheese toasties? Want to be friends?