In two short months the Awfully Big Adventure begins. Two months. TWO MONTHS! Two months until we pack up the wagon queen family truckster giant-ass minivan (I assure you, there’s nothing mini about that puppy) and head out on our two-day journey down to Atlanta for our year-long journey. I’m excited. I’m super excited. But I’m also nervous as hell. I’m moving my family to a place where, with the exception of family, I don’t know anyone. I’m leaving the comfort of my regular office job. I’m leaving the comfort of having a nanny. I’m leaving the comfort of having those friends.
You know those friends. The ones who’ve helped you through your darkest moments. The ones who take you out when you turn 25 31 and make sure there’s photographic evidence of you eating your heaven on a plate white chocolate brownie. and your double chin.
the ones who you go for brunch with, and swim with, and shop with, and drink coffee with, and go to tv show tapings with, and celebrate with, and cry with, and laugh with, and be silly with, and honor special little girls with.
I think I am overcompensating for this fear of being alone.
by talking to complete strangers.
over-talking.
I rambled to some poor unsuspecting woman in a bathroom at CPK.
I told a salesgirl at RW&Co my entire history with jewelery.
I got work advice from a barrista at Starbucks.
I told a real-estate agent how my save-the-earth light switches in my bedroom saved my marriage.
and today. Oh, today.
I stopped at the mall on my way home to pick up a coffee. (I swear, I only went in for coffee. It’s the only Tim Horton’s on my way home) (Really) (Why don’t you believe me?)(I didn’t walk out with a cardigan from Jacob)(that was on sale) Anyway, I was walking up the stairs beside a man. A Gerard Butler-type man. Yes. He was. Yes. His only flaw, really, was the giant Second Cup coffee in his hand.
I made a face.
“Really? Second Cup?”
I actually said to this random stranger.
MY GOD. Where the feck is my filter? (“Feck you!” “I can’t believe she said the F-word” “I think she said Feck!” movie? anyone?)
He looked at me, shocked, and said “I promise next time I’ll buy Tim’s” and fled from the scary, scary lady walked away.
I’m hoping to find some friends in Atlanta. from the kids’ school. from the synagogue. from the gym. from the neighborhood. from the Ronald McDonald House where I plan to volunteer. from the girls’ dance class. from Josh’s hockey team. I’m hoping to find some friends to go for brunch with and shop with and swim with and celebrate with and cry with and laugh with and be silly with
I’m just hoping I can find my filter before August. So, I can have some friends to drink coffee with.
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