The One Where She Talks About Friends
No, not that stupid fucking tv show that ran for like, an eternity. I mean real friends.
Not the kind that were on that stupid fucking tv show, either. Because that wasn't real. And that's why I hated that show. It could just speak to my midwestern-ness, but I don't think even in the booming metropolis of NYC does there exist a group of adults (adults, not 22-year-old just out of college kids) who still plan their every day lives around each other, and just pop into each other's homes, and essentially don't take a crap without the others knowing about it.
I thought once that maybe that kind of adult platonic relationship existed. That maybe it was just me. I had, after all, once had a rather voluminous social circle. It dissipated after I met db and he began his life's work of isolating me from the normal world so he could more easily manipulate and disarm me. By the time I got out of that mess, I was over 30 (albeit barely) and eager to resume my prior engagement as social butterfly.
Alas, I now had a small child in tow. Which meant I had to limit my socializing to certain times when he either wasn't around or when I had an extra thousand dollars for a sitter. Which meant I had to have gainful employment. Which further limited my time for social activities.
Then there were the people with whom I would socialize. I no longer had any real time to search for friends, so I chose the most readily available market--work. Of my coworkers, the ones who had kids, themselves, were much more willing to work around my parenting schedule. Except they had parenting schedules, too, and those didn't always coincide with mine. And some of them even had husbands who also wanted some of their attention (whatever).
When I met Ben, I had pretty nearly written off the few women I had befriended from my office. One was too single. One was too busy. One had other friends that were single and childless (like her). Ben had friends. I sort of hoped to kind of weasel my way into his social circle, but unfortunately, it didn't work out so well. Several of his friends were, for lack of a better word...well, losers. College grads (or drop-outs) without jobs who still lived with their parents. Not much in common there. A few of his friends ended up getting married, but remained childless, which after we had our second, further divided us on the social ladder.
I spent three years working in an office where I was the sole employee. I've dabbled in acquaintanceships with other parents, but given Bob's "issues," I've always sort of hidden from anyone whose children share space with him during the day. Now I work with three women who are crazy enough I don't really want anything to do with them after 5pm.
I've sort of come to realize it's impossible for married, working parents to have meaningful friendships, unless they still live in the neighborhood they grew up in and have remained in the same social circle they were in during high school. (I know one such group here, I've befriended them but remain on the outer rim of their circle, they all grew up together and I've only known them for a few years, so guess who's odd man out?) I have "friends," mostly people I've come to know on-line, which is, sorry to say, a pretty sad substitute for Monica and Rachel and Phoebe and Chandler and Joey and even that tool Ross.
I want real friends. I want people who live nearby enough that they can come over unannounced or even with just a phone call. I want people we can go to the pool with. I want people whose kids can play with my kids. I want people we can hang out with when we find ourselves without kids. I want someone I can meet for lunch, or the occasional beer, or go shopping at Target with. Email and Facebook are all well and good, but dammit, I want just one real-life, honest-to-goodness, in-person friend.
No one loves me, everyone hates me, I think I'll go eat worms.
Not the kind that were on that stupid fucking tv show, either. Because that wasn't real. And that's why I hated that show. It could just speak to my midwestern-ness, but I don't think even in the booming metropolis of NYC does there exist a group of adults (adults, not 22-year-old just out of college kids) who still plan their every day lives around each other, and just pop into each other's homes, and essentially don't take a crap without the others knowing about it.
I thought once that maybe that kind of adult platonic relationship existed. That maybe it was just me. I had, after all, once had a rather voluminous social circle. It dissipated after I met db and he began his life's work of isolating me from the normal world so he could more easily manipulate and disarm me. By the time I got out of that mess, I was over 30 (albeit barely) and eager to resume my prior engagement as social butterfly.
Alas, I now had a small child in tow. Which meant I had to limit my socializing to certain times when he either wasn't around or when I had an extra thousand dollars for a sitter. Which meant I had to have gainful employment. Which further limited my time for social activities.
Then there were the people with whom I would socialize. I no longer had any real time to search for friends, so I chose the most readily available market--work. Of my coworkers, the ones who had kids, themselves, were much more willing to work around my parenting schedule. Except they had parenting schedules, too, and those didn't always coincide with mine. And some of them even had husbands who also wanted some of their attention (whatever).
When I met Ben, I had pretty nearly written off the few women I had befriended from my office. One was too single. One was too busy. One had other friends that were single and childless (like her). Ben had friends. I sort of hoped to kind of weasel my way into his social circle, but unfortunately, it didn't work out so well. Several of his friends were, for lack of a better word...well, losers. College grads (or drop-outs) without jobs who still lived with their parents. Not much in common there. A few of his friends ended up getting married, but remained childless, which after we had our second, further divided us on the social ladder.
I spent three years working in an office where I was the sole employee. I've dabbled in acquaintanceships with other parents, but given Bob's "issues," I've always sort of hidden from anyone whose children share space with him during the day. Now I work with three women who are crazy enough I don't really want anything to do with them after 5pm.
I've sort of come to realize it's impossible for married, working parents to have meaningful friendships, unless they still live in the neighborhood they grew up in and have remained in the same social circle they were in during high school. (I know one such group here, I've befriended them but remain on the outer rim of their circle, they all grew up together and I've only known them for a few years, so guess who's odd man out?) I have "friends," mostly people I've come to know on-line, which is, sorry to say, a pretty sad substitute for Monica and Rachel and Phoebe and Chandler and Joey and even that tool Ross.
I want real friends. I want people who live nearby enough that they can come over unannounced or even with just a phone call. I want people we can go to the pool with. I want people whose kids can play with my kids. I want people we can hang out with when we find ourselves without kids. I want someone I can meet for lunch, or the occasional beer, or go shopping at Target with. Email and Facebook are all well and good, but dammit, I want just one real-life, honest-to-goodness, in-person friend.
No one loves me, everyone hates me, I think I'll go eat worms.
posted by Mitzi Green at 5:49 PM
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