Saturday, March 17, 2012

Life is too short to hold off, hang back, or huddle out from meeting me.

Martini...Diablo's Drink
I went to dinner with a friend last night whom I had the pleasure of meeting only once about a year ago at a party.  When we met, we were three Martinis into it, and instantly liked one another.  It's wonderful when this happens; when life draws two people, drunk or otherwise together, and you can immediately find something to laugh over.  At this particular party (it was an all ladies celebration of a bad marriage and a wonderful divorce), this gal and I immediately commiserated over our naivete on gay men during our younger dating years.  This is when my series of "Handbook" ideas came about.

Since this party, we haven't actually seen one another.  We catch up on Facebook all the time and promised to meet for lunch or dinner with the host of this notorious party with the 6 foot inflatable penis (which every girl needs after a divorce which I assumed when I brought it through the front door) but the opportunity never arrived.  So last night, we took it upon ourselves to meet on our own and I'm so glad we did.  We had a wonderful time.

We talked like we did at the party, even before the Margaritas kicked in.  Sex, kids, husbands, work, and once we got through the easy stuff, we broke it down even further - orgasms, divorce, the big bang theory - we covered it all.  We were in tears.  When we were leaving, she said something interesting.  She mentioned she was afraid we wouldn't have anything to talk about.  Since we didn't know each other that well, she was concerned we'd sit in the booth and stare across at each other.

George Michael
RIDICULOUS!  At that amazing Martini party, we discussed some serious issues. We discussed our passion for the same gay band member on the Village People (the Cowboy).  She and I concurred and lamented over George Michael being caught open handed (pardon the pun) as being gay (How could that be?  We were so young and in love?).  But we both knew - without a doubt - about Boy George.  Absolutely no question there.  We both dated gay men.  What's with that?  We became instant sistahs.

Besides, I have never, ever been one to sit across and stare at another human being.  Once I fall in love with you, be it at a bar when your name is Gigi and your arm is covered with tattoos, or at a Mardi Gras party and I repeatedly say, "Hey, you look like my friend, Linda Pearson.  Who the Hell are you?" (Troy Family, FB me that gal's name.  I'm thinking since we hung all over each other at your party, we're meant to be friends too.), or I meet you at a blood bank and we strike up a conversation, it's destiny we become buddies.

Shannon and Bri
The Notorious Martini Party 2011
Life is too short to hold off, hang back, or huddle out from meeting me.  If I exhaust you, so be it.  Don't jump in.  Hell, I poop myself out.  BUT, if you hear me chatting with myself at the grocery store or I tell you I love the purple streak in your hair, seriously - don't be afraid to laugh and jump right in.  I've been known to go to the market for a loaf of bread and not come home for over an hour because I have a date to meet a new friend for coffee.  Word of warning though, once I get to know you, I love you.  There's no going back.  I'll tell you like it is.  If it's a pink hair streak and I hate it - I'll let you know.  If I'm in a bad mood, you'll see my grumpy side.  But then again, that's what friends are for, right?

P.S.  Thank you, Shannon.  You're awesome!  How did we end up at a Mexican Restaurant on St. Patty's Eve?  Also, a wee bit embarrassed..couldn't drive home.  What did that dude put in my Margarita?