the art of making friends as an adult (or, why i went to happy hour with my dog vol. 1)

I’m a nice person.

I am! I have old friends, college friends, work friends, bad friends, good friends…..but none of these are in the same vacinity. Well, some are nearby but maybe they wouldn’t get along. And my dog is nicer to me than some, also.

What am I getting at?

Basically, I thought about submitting a Craiglist ad: “White female looking for a friend. Doesn’t even have to be “best” status. Just someone who is down to run errands, get a manicure, eat food or go to happy hour. Prefer you live within 15 miles. Please don’t smoke or use incorrect grammar or hate God. Talk to you soon! XoXo”

Because I watch an insane amount of Criminal Minds, I didn’t post the ad. Craiglist is a serial killer’s haven.

How do you make friends at the age of 23, working full-time, in a city where no former friends or family live? You probably have to do more than burn your hand making dinner and cry on your kitchen rug while your puppy barks at you, for starters.

This isn’t a new topic, but it is for me. From age 3 to age 22, I belonged to something that required me to be friends with people by default. Whether that was gymnastics, t-ball, cheerleading, AP classes, student council, sorority, college classes or internships, there was consistently a reason for bonding.

You can’t just hit on a girl in yoga class without looking like you’re looking for more, if you know what I mean. So, after about two weeks of wallowing in “I don’t have friends” land to my co-workers, boyfriend and mom I decided I should take action.

First action item? I wrote a blog post. Oh, yeah that’ll get em Chels.  But then, I enrolled my barking puppy in puppy school. I figure he could learn how to not pee on my bed, eat my mattress and generally be a pest and MAYBE I could make a friend. This is a bonding activity for everyone, right?

Secondly, I organized a happy hour with my work friends. Work friends are still friends, but work style. I hope I’ve not offended my work friends by explaining how I don’t have friends. There’s just a fine line between group lunch and watching Grey’s Anatomy in your pajamas together. By fine line, I mean huge line that shouldn’t be crossed in most cases. By most cases, I mean all besides a select few.

Finally, I decided that no one wants to be friend with a complainer….unless they’re funny. So I’ve been practicing my jokes. AND I decided I’ll just be nicer and friendlier. Say hi, join a gym, join a church, whatever.

Anyone wanna go to Pottery Barn tomorrow with me tomorrow….?

Xo,

Chelsie

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8 Comments

Filed under rambles

8 responses to “the art of making friends as an adult (or, why i went to happy hour with my dog vol. 1)

  1. austenkeats

    You are funny! And I’m a bigger complainer than you! 🙂

  2. tar

    i would be your friend if i lived in dtown. everyday. 🙂

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