I feel like I'm never going to find a new close friend again. It's hard to move to a new city, new state, new part of America when you're at the end of your pregnancy, and then be bound by baby raising to not get to fully integrate socially into the new environment. I'm a quiet observer, furthermore, so it's hard for me to integrate at all. I was so lucky in college to have made these deep connections with a few women who became my soul-closest friends since my original two best friends of childhood. Women with whom I shared kisses and more, tears, music, nights, drugs, debates, lovers, ideas, emotions. And everything since then has been retreating in levels of closeness. Was it just that age? Do I need to share all that with potential new friends for us to become that close? Well, some of it, beyond mommy playgroup chit chat, for sure. I bet smoking a bowl with a willing mom-acquaintance would do wonders for our closeness.

I did meet a new batch of people, a whole tribe, when I chose to move into downtown Chicago after my suburban college. From an ad posted in a hip cafe of the neighborhood I wanted to live in, I met a girl who seemed cool. The rest was history; she worked with my husband-to-be. A whole bunch of cool people worked at that company and soon we were all having so much fun together, long drinking parties, lots of carrousing and switching of conversations. We loved to have fun together, we even made several competing bowling leagues out of each other and went to Rock N Bowl nights. It was a group thing, with individual personalities blooming into awareness over time, the couples solidifying over time. We were the first to marry, we've been to another wedding since then, one this June, another just got engaged. We had the first baby, then someone had another. From them I learned what it is to be good friends without the visceral sensual all-encompassing quality of my college relationships. I love and care about them now.

And here, a few are starting to tug at my core, I admit. But there's this sea of diapers between us all. There is so much talking about the babies going on, it's like a scrim. Even the sans-baby dinners I've gone to, talk centers around husbands and -ugh- real estate. Is it all because we're still getting to know each other or because I don't have much in common with these ladies. They all seem so much older than me, for one thing. I mean, technically they are, but they are the same age as my Chicago friends. Here they dress in khaki slacks and nondescript shirts, whereas in Chi they have tattoos and dress like young hipsters or at least with a sense of being put together. I'm not expressing that well, and I know, I know, fuck judging people by what they wear. That is something I have to work on. Not everyone wears their personality literally on their sleeves, or expresses anything having to do with who they are through their clothes. Some do, and some do it in other ways. Part of my shallowness is finding more affinity instantly with someone wearing cute corduroys rather than fitted banana republic slacks. But I digress.

I started out this post with tears in my eyes, but writing about my chicago & college friendships cheered me up. It did take years to cultivate each of those friendships. And I have only lived here for a year and a half. I just want to connect with someone. Feel that spark of friendship, and share some of my necessary interests with them. People with whom I can find solace and talk unguardedly and burp around. Who share at least a few key elements of child-rearing philosophy, and life philosophy. I'm almost ready to put an ad in the paper. But I know that only time and serendipity will lead those friends to me. I just need to keep putting myself out there and not stay home. And have the courage to go talk to someone if they give me that soft feeling of potential.