The Fun of New Friends

I've made a handful of new friends this year and, still, after over a half century of living, that act of meeting fresh faces  feels all fresh and shiny to me, like I just want to run home and blabber to my mom about this great, new kid I met on the playground.

"...and, and, and then we played kick soccer at recess and--boy!--could she kick!  And she's funny and nice and super good with crayons, too...."

For whatever reason, I've never been one to find renewal in a day-spa experience.  Probably because I've never treated myself to one.  For me, the thing that fuels me most in life is that aha! moment of connecting with someone or something else for the first time.  And I like that this connecting process is not formulaic.  Some first connections roll out slowly over a few weeks of shared lunches in the staff lounge, each of us wondering what the other will bring to the table today.

That's how it was with new friend Lisa, whom, I'm afraid, I scared or grossed out through much of first quarter, because I can lack self control and too often let slip a saucy pun or a slightly-too-raw-for-mealtime story that feels good rolling off of my tongue.  Eventually, though, she found a way to nourish her body while also disengaging her senses so as not to be too disturbed.  In time, then, we forged a friendship, despite my best efforts.

Other connections are hurried along by a combination of sparkling recommendations coupled with an elongated first meeting.  Such was the case with Cathy, a friend still too new to pick up the phone and call, I suppose.  (Although I'm starting to think that no one really "picks up the phone and calls" anyone anymore).  Still, I was intrigued when others told me how much I'd like her--although we've all been burned before by the too-enthusiastic-to-be-real praise heaped upon a new acquaintance.  I suppose such praise can be hard to live up to.

Such was not the case with Cathy, though, who walked to our car with character and quiet confidence, despite the stranger in the front seat who stared at her with a sort of half smile pasted to her face.  After the exchange of basic information, by the time we arrived at the workshop and wandered around with bagels in our hands, we opened up enough to each other to decide that this thing just might happen.

...and I have no reason to think that it won't.

It is good to still be something enough (young enough? brave enough? desperate enough? lucky enough?) to make a new friend here or there.  That act is like a cool spring breeze, rife with hope and possibility.  And I welcome its refreshment, wrapped up in a stranger no more.