Making friends

In my early twenties, I was once described as a “sprinkler” because I spread out my time with many different people.  A few years later, it seemed my friends had whittled down to a select few. My life had mellowed out when my children were babies/toddlers, but I seem to be making friends again at record speeds.

Bill knows his shit.

Meeting new people is fantastic.  I love hearing about people’s lives and experiences.  Sharing knowledge and stories makes us all better people.  I find that with every person I meet, my life gets better.  My biggest problem… I am terrible with names.

“and you are?…”

Not just the names of people I just met, but also of people I’ve met numerous times.  I used to feel bad about not remembering names.  I’ve flat out said to people, “I don’t know who you are.”  I’ve even tried, “I’m sorry, your name escapes me.”  Most people just say their name again to me and I say something along the lines of, “That’s right!” As if the person telling me their name just discovered it themselves as well.  I don’t feel bad about asking any more.

 

Many a good time…

 
Then I realized that I’m a tall skinny freak.  I stand out in a crowd.  Most people who have met me remember me because of my personality.  I never take life too seriously.

I make friends through friends.  There’s a reason the first friend is a friend.  It’s like six degrees of Kevin Bacon when you trace out how you met people.  Each person I meet and choose to remain friends with, is one more life that now expands into mine.

I like making new friends.  But it can be awkward to say, “Hey can I get your contact information so we can hang out sometime in a non-sexual manner?”  Facebook has made this awkwardness a bit easier.  Although, awkwardness has its benefits.  It makes situations more memorable.  I live for the memories made with new friends.  It brings an air of excitement.

I’m off to go make some new friends.  So until next time, be sure and share some wisdom with somebody new.

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