It’s weird not having any friends where you live.
I mean, I have the architect, and he’s great. I adore him. I love spending time with him. We do a lot of stuff together, and it’s fun, wonderful, superlative, superlative, etc. I am very much looking forward to decades of spending time with him.
Now that I have that out of the way (just in case he decides to pop by), it’s just not the same.
As much fun as he is, it’s not quite the same as having a non live-in friend.
Someone you can call up and go hang out with and be away from the house and away from the wonderful significant other who we would not trade for anything.
I’ve only been in Portland for about 6 weeks, and I don’t even have a real job yet – just temping – and it’s hard to make friends at a job when you’re a temp.
I know the friends will happen – I mean it’s always happened before!
I just don’t make friends easily, and can’t remember a time when I ever have.
I have some friends who are naturally gregarious, wonderful people – terrific friends. I am not one of those people.
I’m difficult. I’m overly sarcastic. I’m not always nice. I only like smart people. Which honestly, I don’t think I should get rid of that criteria. I tend to be too inwardly focused at times.
However, I’m loyal. Honest. Fun, sometimes.
It’s weird how one critiques oneself so harshly.
I do have friends. In Los Angeles. In South Dakota. In Washington (DC and the state of). In St. Louis and Chicago and Austin and the Bay Area. People I’ve talked to this week, and people I haven’t talked to in a year.
People I’ve never met in real life.
I guess I was just feeling a bit lonely this evening. I’m sure I’ll feel better once the architect gets home. He’s my best friend.