Also, washing dishes is so last year.

The past couple of weeks has been a blur.

Kind of a purple blur, if you know what I mean.  If you don’t, well.  I don’t have words eloquent enough to explain it to you.  She does, though.

As the days pass I’m learning lessons about love, loss, friendship, and allowing myself to just let go and be led (by what, I’m not entirely sure – my heart, mind, conscience, Brigade of Righteous Gnomes?) to do what seems right.

Not waiting for a permission slip to do good, or a forgiveness for past good that should have been done elsewhere, but was not.  Not overly worried about my rightful place or whatever.  Just letting myself be led by whatever the heck the thingie is that’s leading me.

Wow, that is so clearly stated!

So much of my life I’ve looked back over my shoulder half the time and the other half, I’ve spent worrying about every little detail of what I should be doing.

Just doing that living and growing thing for now.  Feeling maybe too much and acting perhaps with too much emotion. (Which is really not unlike me at all, anyway. Big Ball of Emotions, FTW!)

I tend to quite regularly rely on a personal shtick of humorous complaining.

Lately, nothing I want to complain about seems worth the energy by the time the breath hits my lips.

Energy is much better spent elsewhere.

And I am so not talking about the laundry.

And so lately, I’ve: Listed Walks, Walked in Maddie’s Honor, Pressed Pretty Purple Paper, Talked to Mah Beloved Crackah Beeshes, Held My Loved Ones Closer.

Clean/Unwrinkled clothing is SO overrated.

(And just for the record so are mopped floors.)

Dating Women

I am always the new girl.  Having moved five times in the past nine years, I’ve regrettably had to embrace the title and challenges that go along with being the new girl.  Even right now, guest blogging, I’m the new girl, in an unfamiliar place, trying to impress people I don’t know.  Am I being witty enough?  Are they just sticking around because they know I’m alone and would feel bad leaving?  At least here I can’t read your eyes and see that you’d really rather be hanging out with Lotus.

So right now I’m in the market for a lady friend.  I know the hows and wheres to finding new friends.  Most of it involves doing things I’m kind of sick of doing like putting myself out there or being a joiner or being friendly.   I could join a MOMS Club or MOPS, but that would mean lots of fretting about what to wear and what to say.  And there’s the whole “I hate leaving the house with my children” aspect.  Then once I’ve gotten the nerve up to actually get out of the car and walk into a place without knowing a soul and making polite, but awkward conversation, well, it really all sounds like too much effort.

It would be nice if I could just sit back and have new friends come to me for once.  I KNOW that won’t happen, though.  Hello!  I’ve lived in Tennessee for three months and the Friend Fairy hasn’t delivered even one friend to my doorstep.

It doesn’t seem like making friends should be so hard. I mean, I should be able to see a nice mom at the food court in the mall, go up, say “hello,” make small talk about our kids’ poop, exchange phone numbers, meet for lunch with the kids later in the week at that McDonald’s with the clean(er) play area, laugh and gossip, have our husbands meet each other at a bar-b-que on Saturday.  Voila!  Friends!

Or why can’t all of my friends who live in my laptop just magically appear when I need a friend to hang out with on the couch and watch trashy reality TV?

It’s just not that easy when it comes to making friends with women.

Wouldn’t it just be less effort to put an ad in the paper?

33 year old married women with two small children seeks female for friendship ONLY.  Must enjoy some shopping, chatting on the phone, long walks in the park.  Flexibility a must, as shopping will most likely get canceled because of a sick child, chatting on the phone will include many interruptions from said children, and walks in the park will actually be chasing toddlers around the park screaming at them not to eat the discarded goldfish crackers from someone elses picnic.    Picky eaters, close-minded jerks, people I can’t mention my blog to, Cubs fans, Twilight fans who insist I must read the remaining 3 books need not apply.

Hee, hee!  JUST KIDDING about the last two.  See?  Just proves my point that making friends with women is brutal.

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When Jennifer isn’t trolling for hot chicks to date looking for friendly women to pal around with, she’s entertaining all of us virtual friends over at her website, Playgroups Are No Place For Children. I’ve read her posts ever since I started checking out this blogosphere, and she never fails to entertain and inspire me. I’d feel lucky to have the Friend Fairy deliver her to me, any day.