May 14, 2011 by Heather
I would like to start this off by saying that right now, at this moment, I feel like I live in a dorm room. A dorm room with a dishwasher and a washer/dryer and a husband, but still a dorm room.
Going from a three bedroom house to a studio apartment…. hmm. Not sure if I’d recommend it. We wanted an adventure though, and let me tell you, our living space right now is (and will continue to be) quite the adventure.
Tonight there were some people grilling out in one of the grassy picnic/grill areas by our apartment. We had just gotten back from walking around Old Town with Mayfield, so after I parked the car and finished the pack of sweethearts left over from the road trip out here, I noticed that Mr. Social Pants Andrew had waltzed himself and our dog over to where the group of 4 or 5 people were preparing their grilled feast. They had things set out like marinated chicken and asparagus and bottles of beer with some obscure colorful label on them.
Everyone here is a beer aficionado, or so it seems. Me, not so much.
By the time I walked over to the picnic table, Andrew had already struck up a conversation with the group. They had on bandannas and spaghetti strap shirts with their bra straps showing and big tattoos and frizzy hair. Nose rings. A real free spirited bunch. Then there’s Heather and Andrew, the hopeless nerdy newbies wearing a cardigan and a polo shirt. Oh, how I wish I were more of a social butterfly. Andrew is the same way. For some reason, it just does not come naturally to us. I think, individually and on our own, we do ok. But put us together and it is just sort of awkward. I don’t understand it. Luckily, they had a dog. So any weird pauses in the conversation were remedied by noticing something about how our dogs were getting along.
They invited us to eat with them and then go out to some obscure bar later on for (what else?) cheap draft beers. We made up some lame excuse about needing to finish unpacking and blah blah… basically, thanks but no thanks. Then they told us about some place that has swing dancing on Monday nights. The girl with the bicep tattoo and maroon bra straps said, “Yeah, if you ever want to go just call me or shoot me a text and we can meet up!”
????? I didn’t mention that I had just met her and did not, in fact, have her phone number.
We made our way back to our
dorm room apartment and proceeded to fully embrace our nerdness by googling the bar and swing dancing place to see what exactly they were, what they looked like, what was on the menu. It didn’t take long to realize that it wasn’t exactly our scene.
Did we go back downstairs and join them in their feast? Did we meet up with them at the bar? Did we take advantage of the opportunity to make friends?
We snuck down the stairs and to our car, out of their sight, and went to the grocery store. We came home, made spinach pasta with tomato & garlic sauce with steamed broccoli and cheesy gouda garlic bread, and we watched The Office and 24.
That girl never texted me. Weird. I like totally thought we were bffs.
Friends will come. We are just slow to warm up. I am ready to get to know some people. I think my job will be a great way to do that. Loneliness is on the verge of settling into my weird little brain. I’m determined to keep it away. Even if it means getting out of my comfort zone and eating food with hippies.
To quote a text I just got from a wise friend: “Sink your teeth into this big fresh life cake, girl. It’s going to be awesome.”