Friendly Action

Almost all of our closest friends live in Atlanta. I’ve got one extra (my oldest and bestest) in Cincinnati and we’re about to have another in Phoenix. Here in New York we’ve got a few we really love, but aren’t quite as close to us as the Atlanta crew. There’s no one, for example, who is as comfortable at my place as at home (and vice versa). I miss my friends who would come over and just do whatever they like, fish around the refrigerator, talk on the phone, take a nap. I do know that can sound awful. But our friends were delightful folks who offered the same comforts and were just as likely to leave something in the refrigerator as take something away.

Many to most of our friends in Georgia are theater people. So perhaps other people just don’t tend to reach that level of informality. But I miss it.

So I’m going to make a more concerted effort to make some friends around here, both at work and around. Tonight we’re going to Andy and Annie’s apartment around 8:30 to get a pizza and watch a movie. That’s a pretty low-impact “first date” for friends. They’ve got a one-year-old, which is also appealing to me.

It really is like dating. Someone has to extend that first shy invitation, wondering if situational contact should be extended into intentional contact and hoping the other person isn’t thinking: Good lord, now I’m stuck. Then you spend time together and it’s hard to relax because you’re searching for that rhythm and feeling awkward. And then after a few tries if it doesn’t click you get discouraged about the whole business and go back to hanging out at home.

So tonight is Annie and Andy, and I’ve laid the ground work with our health editor Carin so that some time soon we can double date. Her boyfriend is a muscian and former (and perhaps future) actor, so they may hit it off.

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18 responses to this post.

  1. Ha! You make me laugh. You can generally tell it’s Wuv, twoo wuv, with me as a friend if, suddenly, you look up from your magazine and wonder why I’m so quiet, only to realize I’m asleep under the coffee table.

    Reply

  2. Ha! You make me laugh. You can generally tell it’s Wuv, twoo wuv, with me as a friend if, suddenly, you look up from your magazine and wonder why I’m so quiet, only to realize I’m asleep under the coffee table.

    Reply

    • See, I love that.
      I remember when I was working at CNN and I had only two hours off on Thanksgiving Day. I walked in the front door of the house where my friends were having a huge dinner, grabbed one of their cats, bee-lined for their bed, went to sleep, was awoken by the husband of the house when it was time to go back to work, and was handed a plate of food on the way back out the door.
      I want more of that. Minus the 20-hour work days.
      If you lived nearby I’d be trying to lure you with the fact that my coffee table is both huge, providing lots of comfy shade.

      Reply

      • I’m pretty easy to lure. All you have to do, really, is ask me time I’m coming over, or tell me to pick up something on the way over, and the next thing you know, there I’ll be.
        Before my old book club disbanded (I think because my friend Amanda and I were uncooperative and refused to discuss the books, prefering instead to loll about on the furniture drinking), it was at my house one month and Amanda walked in the front door, passed everyone without saying a word, got under the covers in the guest bed, and then hollered, “I think I’d sleep better if I had a glass of wine and somebody closed the door.”

      • Maybe it’s a southern thing, where eccentricity is a cherished right. Everyone here seems so much more stiff.
        A friend of mine in DC is in a trashy book club. They only read things like Jackie Collins novels.

      • I want to be in that book club, too.

  3. interesting. you say your friends are atlanta theater people…you wouldnt happen to be referring to ga tech or dads garage theater people would you? My husband worked off and on as a stage manager for dads garage for years and god knows what all at ga tech

    Reply

  4. interesting. you say your friends are atlanta theater people…you wouldnt happen to be referring to ga tech or dads garage theater people would you? My husband worked off and on as a stage manager for dads garage for years and god knows what all at ga tech

    Reply

  5. If your last name is st charles, then my husband brandon smith says hi. freakin small world.

    Reply

  6. and if you dont remember him he did chick and boozie a couple of times and cannibal, assassins, those good things

    Reply

  7. See, I love that.
    I remember when I was working at CNN and I had only two hours off on Thanksgiving Day. I walked in the front door of the house where my friends were having a huge dinner, grabbed one of their cats, bee-lined for their bed, went to sleep, was awoken by the husband of the house when it was time to go back to work, and was handed a plate of food on the way back out the door.
    I want more of that. Minus the 20-hour work days.
    If you lived nearby I’d be trying to lure you with the fact that my coffee table is both huge, providing lots of comfy shade.

    Reply

  8. Good lord! More from me on one of your original posts.

    Reply

  9. I’m pretty easy to lure. All you have to do, really, is ask me time I’m coming over, or tell me to pick up something on the way over, and the next thing you know, there I’ll be.
    Before my old book club disbanded (I think because my friend Amanda and I were uncooperative and refused to discuss the books, prefering instead to loll about on the furniture drinking), it was at my house one month and Amanda walked in the front door, passed everyone without saying a word, got under the covers in the guest bed, and then hollered, “I think I’d sleep better if I had a glass of wine and somebody closed the door.”

    Reply

  10. Maybe it’s a southern thing, where eccentricity is a cherished right. Everyone here seems so much more stiff.
    A friend of mine in DC is in a trashy book club. They only read things like Jackie Collins novels.

    Reply

  11. I want to be in that book club, too.

    Reply

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