A pinnacle of boredom was reached with the other day's post. I'm in a slump - a funk, a rut - if you will.
Saturday was a warm day, and after a few errands OC and I spent some time at a nearby park. Right off the bat she met a 5-year old girl and they began to play together. The girl was there with her grandmother, who was from Alabama. The grandma has lived here in Central Oregon for a year, and was glad to live closer to her son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter. In fact, she lived within walking distance to the park the kids currently played. We got to talking - she did most of the talking - and she told me all about her life.
She is one of eight kids, grew up near Birmingham, has one child, has one grandchild, likes to cook, lived here a year, thinks people waste too much and aren't happy with what they've got. Those are only the highlights. She spent most of the time telling me all kinds of things. In that time, she shared with me a recipe she made up. I will share it with you. You don't need paper for this, trust me:
Put chips in an oven dish. Add a layer of chili. Add a layer of cheese. Another layer of chili. Another layer of cheese. Now bake until warm and melty. Yum, greasy!
I was a listening board for her life story. I wanted to talk, too, but she wasn't all that interested in following up on what I did say. Maybe it's a southern etiquette thing or an age thing, who knows. Maybe if I took her up on her offer to get together again, she'd ask me about my life, too. I'm feeling sorry for myself. Boo hoo, I'm lonely. Blah.
I haven't sat down with a friend over a coffee or anything else for over six weeks. I've talked with friends and family on the phone, and we've emailed, but no face to face meetings in that time.
I've met a few people here, but I haven't met a woman my age with whom I have things in common. I've met a couple of neighbors and the affectionately aforementioned Alabammy Granny, all of whom were warm and welcoming, suggesting future meetings. I feel reluctant to take them up because they happen to be older than I.
I don't want to dwell too much on the age thing. It sounds like it's a problem, and it's really not. My main complaint is that I haven't found someone who knows what I'm going through, who is in the same general place in life as myself. Anyone could understand me and be a friend, no matter what age. It's that I am looking for the companionship in the person with whom I feel a connection.
And then I wonder, why do I want that, a relationship with someone like myself? That would mean I'm looking for a whiny 33-year old, frustrated mommy and wife who feels very out of place here in this new place that everyone professes to love?
Don't I sound appealing? Who wouldn't want to be friends with me? I'm lucky to meet people here, what space do I have to complain about the people I do meet? And anyway, isn't this experience of living in a new place supposed to work better if I let go, and go with it? If I embrace whatever comes my way with an openness that allows me to find out what is in store for me, rather than being suspicious of the package?
Yes, that is the point. I get it.
In an unrelated note, this blogger made me laugh out loud. Warning: contains profanity. Or should I say: Hallelujah! Contains profanity! 'Cause I love some good old fashioned cuss words. (No one says "cuss" anymore, why is that?)
Here's what was so dang funny:
"...the blogosphere (which I can generally count on for celebrating half-assedness and slapdash, madcap, fun) is suddenly all about the Writing, for Christ’s sake, and how we can improve ours. Sweet Lord, it ain’t an MFA program yet, is it? Because, you know, I wouldn't get into a decent one, which is why I'm getting the longer, drier, version...no, not the Always Longs with Wings, or whatever the fuck those pads are that poke you gently in the asshole. I am talking about the Ph.D., motherfucker..."
Ahhhhh. That was delightful. Just what I needed to get me out of today's funk.
It's a beautiful, sunny Sunday. OC and I need to get outside and do.....something.