The show is in a week, and I realized how close it was and I only knew one of the two tricks I was expected to perform. Everyone gets a warm up swing and two tricks. I knew one. Last week I tried back end splits and utterly failed at that. So I resigned myself to just doing two-position splits in the show, and I can work on back end after the show is over. I needed to land planche and fast. I had attempted it a year ago, but never fully got into position. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to learn it in time. But good news! I did! I landed it over and over again yesterday, and that was just great. Little tweaks are in order, like tightening up a bit more, and making sure I look where I’m supposed to look at the right times. But all in all…I got my second show trick. Fabulous!
Friday I had to practice show makeup. Let’s get one thing straight…I am no good at makeup! Daily, but especially show makeup! Totally out of my element here. But I found a picture I wanted to copy, and I made my way through the makeup department at Target, came home, and started heavily applying black to my eyelids. Is it going to be perfect? Heck no! But absolutely good enough, and might even turn out great, who knows? I thought it was pretty good after my practice session Friday night. For me, anyway.
Yesterday I went out to look for a trapeze show outfit. This is the best part, right? The outfit! A show outfit! We have specific show colors that we cannot deviate from. I already have some amazing black leggings with mesh cut outs and silver sequin hot pants, but those are not in the color palette. Sad. I went to the ghetto mall (you know, the Carlsbad one), as one does when they’re trying to find teeny-bopper inexpensive sequin outfits. My go-to store didn’t exist anymore, so I was a bit worried. But guess who did not fail me? Forever 21, of course! They are always down for some quality sequins, let me tell you. That’s where I found my sequin hot pants a couple years ago.
I tried on lots of different sequin items in lots of different stores. But, you know, I had to make sure I could really move in the clothes. So I had to test it out. I left the privacy of my own dressing room cubicle and proceeded to do handstands with lots of leg movements up there to make sure I had the mobility I needed with no costume malfunctions. In front of everyone else in the dressing room area. Was it embarrassing? Not for me. Probably was for my mom, who was with me. But lets be honest here, she embarrassed me by always opening the dressing room door when I was stark naked. Yes, they still do that when you’re in your 30’s. Sheesh. By the third store I didn’t give her dressing room privileges. Enough is enough, am I right? She was extremely helpful in the sequin-outfit department, though. And zipped up things that I could never reach on my own. (Also, she bought me lunch. Hooray for moms!)
So, outfit: check. Makeup: check. Tricks: check! Now to just get rid of this darn cold my body decided to get yesterday, and all will be well. In the meantime, I’ll be staying in bed all day Netflixing my life away.
Farmers Markets are great, right? You got fresh food, you’re helping out local farmers, there’s tons of great things to see, taste, bring home for dinner. Flowers galore.
The flowers just might be my favorite part. So, out of all of the Farmers Markets in San Diego, I decide the best one must be Solana Beach. Because Solana Beach is fancy! It might be more expensive too, but I was going for fancy, I guess. I had a list of stuff I needed, which consisted of veggies and eggs. I had no idea anyone sold eggs at farmers markets, but I was willing to give it a go. Then hit the grocery store on my way home if they didn’t.
One of the first booths I see has a cardboard sign that reads “eggs!” (exclamation theirs). I was quite excited. She said she had one more carton left. Sold! Wow, I really lucked out, she’s almost sold out. She shows me the eggs, closes the carton while I’m getting out some cash and she says “$8.50 please”. I quickly put my cash back in my wallet. “Wait..what?? $8 for eggs?” I hate being that person, but come ON $8 eggs! She gives me this big long speech about what they feed their chickens, what they don’t feed them, what their coop looks like, blah blah. Basically, if I say no then I’m the biggest chicken-hater-abuser in the world, so I’d better buy these eggs and not get them at Albertson’s. FINE. I give her my money, then she tells me to not rinse them until I’m going to use them. They have this protective coating on them that’s natural, it’s there when the eggs are laid, it keeps them fresher longer. Then…THEN she tells me these eggs were just laid on Friday. I could even put them in an incubator to hatch them if I want. What?! These eggs have chickens in them?? Maybe I’m not up on my chicken trivia, but I thought there were fertile eggs and unfertilized eggs. (Did that make since? I’m getting confused with fertilizer and human babies.) They don’t go from being non-chick to chick after they’re laid. Do they?? Please chime in if you know. Because every single time I go to crack one of those eggs open I am scared to death there will be a baby chick in it! One that I killed! This is all too much pressure. There’s also still dirt and hay on these eggs (before I wash them) and it just reminds me that this egg just went through a chickens insides, and now I’m touching it. I am touching the birthing canal of a chicken. Right now. This is all too much. I’m never buying eggs at a farmers market again.
But they sure are pretty. One even has speckles!
They didn’t have all the veggies I was looking for, but had some pretty great things. I got fresh pomegranate juice to put in my morning parfaits, some lettuce and tomatoes. The tomatoes were excellent, as fresh tomatoes always are (never put them in the fridge). The lettuce went bad almost instantly. Then the egg saga. I love going to farmers markets, but I think the point is to buy what you’re going to eat that night. Or maybe the next night. I was shopping for the week, and that’s just not totally practical.
These were at a store in the market. Love them! But hefty price tag. Solana Beach and all.
What was really great, though, was that I got hit on by a proper Italian.
I was standing in the middle of the food court trying to decide what I wanted for lunch, when these guys from Red Oven insisted they were the best vendor there and 7th in the nation(!) and I’d be sorely disappointed if I didn’t eat their pizza. I was jonesing for a gyros, but I can’t pass up a great wood fired pizza. Can you? I got the Parma and it was delish! There was a couple there that told me they drove all the way from Orange County just for their pizza. Crazy! I think I’m the last one to jump on the Red Oven bandwagon, but I’m totally on it now. You can hire them for private events, too. So do that. Look how good that crust looks. Dang, this is making me hungry.
So…that was my trip to the Farmers Market. To sum up: I need veggies to have the chemicals on them so they’ll last a week. And don’t even get me started about the eggs.
(that’s not me up there)
The last time we left this trapeze thing, I had been gone for ten months then came back and signed up for a month. And was doing kind of lousy. And guess what? I continued to do extremely lousy every single class since!
I didn’t expect to be amazing at it, but I did expect some improvement with each class. So when I had four classes under my belt and pretty much zero improvement, it was pretty discouraging. I swear I’m trying! (Don’t you feel like no one thinks you’re trying if you consistently do bad?) But this morning I improved! In fact, Dave said I won for most improved. (it’s tough to win anything with Dave, he’s a hardass, in the good sense of the word. He makes sure you’re doing things correctly so you don’t get hurt, and wants you to improve. Good teacher, that guy.) So THAT right there was pretty darn exciting.
Before that, Chris came up to me and said “Do you want to fly out of lines?” I almost fell over, I was so shocked. “What?! I’m ready to fly out of lines?!” Not yet, no. But I just need to improve my take off (which suuucks!) then I’m ready to fly out of lines. That was a huge boost, too. I felt so much better after today. Yay I’m not a hopeless trapeze cause!
Wanna see a video from today? Sure ya do.
Things I need to work on:
- Arching my back. This is why videos are good…my back isn’t arched at all! I blame my short arms, but I’m pretty sure that’s just a fat lie.
- My first position is not straight. Straighten up, Ang!
- Looking at the catcher. Did you hear her yelling that to me in the video? “you’re not looking at him!” ha! I was just stoked I got my hands right so he could catch me.
It’s tough to do something you’re not great at. But as long as I see small improvements, it’s fine (please remind me of that next time I’m whiny about it haha!) And since I saw some improvement, I decided to be in the show. You heard me, a show! I was very close to chickening out and not being in it, but whatever, let’s do this! It’s at the end of November. If any of you want to come see me fly (and all the other really talented flyers), please email me (firstname.lastname@example.org) or text me if you know me well enough to know my phone number. I’ll give you all the details!
A show! Think I’ll be able to fly out of lines by then? We’ll find out, won’t we.
I thought I’d fill in the gaps for you with the rest of the trip to LA to see Airborne Toxic Event. Pretty exciting stuff, people! It has trains, food AND lipstick involved! Very exciting stuff.
It all started out at the train station. I of course was paranoid there was going to be an overturned semi on the freeway to prevent me from getting from my work to the train station in time, so I left about a half hour too early.
And Amtrak was about a half hour late. That’s me waiting there for the train. There was a girl standing next to me that insisted we were on the same train, even though they were scheduled to leave at completely different times, had different train numbers, and were a different train company. So when her train changed to the next platform over, she tried to literally pull me over there with her. I’m on a different train lady, leave me alone!!
Here’s what’s great about the train. You get on it, you connect to their free wifi, stick headphones in your ear so you can listen to Spotify, take out your ipad so you can Pinterest and write stuff, and you drink the free wine whilst gazing out into the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Here I’m trying to show you just that. Look guys, I’m drinking wine out of the bottle and Pinteresting at the same time because I’m classy! Are you buying it?
I couldn’t manage to get a non-blurry picture of my ipad, wine and view. Besides, they all looked stupid because I’m just holding them up. I was trying to contort myself into a position that looked classy yet comfortable so you’d think I didn’t set up the shot, but I’m just naturally that cool. I’m so not good at this.
In other news, look how green the water is! Keep in mind, this is from the train which has a filthy window full of sea air stuck on it to muck things up. But the water is indeed green. In San Clemente. Who knew?!
After this (and the wine) I proceeded to take about 75 selfies of me gazing out of the train, trying to make it look like someone across from me was taking the picture. I shall not bore you with those. They’re pretty hideous. You think anyone saw me do it? Gosh, I hope not.
And now I’m at Union Station! Fabulous. This night was the concert, so I already filled you in on that. Remember when I told you that I was obnoxious with my order and asked they build my usual breakfast for me? Well, here it is. In the flesh, people.
Except they didn’t put the avocado between the bread and the eggs. They must’ve seen right through me trying to be rich and famous in LA, and realized I’m just a normal bozo who doesn’t know how to demand things. This was at The Standard Hotel in Downtown LA. Really great, right? The food was super good, those potatoes were goooood! I wanted to sit outside, but it was suddenly fall, so I was down for inside with constant coffee refills.
Later on that day we ventured out to Hollywood for the TMZ Bus Tour. I do not follow the celebrities, but my friend does, so we hopped on the bus and hoped to find us some famous people! We didn’t, but it was still fun. You can literally see a line in the grass where Beverly Hills ends (green) and LA starts (brown). The other half, am I right?
I decided this would be a great time for me to find the perfect red lipstick. I walk into a practically empty MAC store (unheard of) and I pretend to look at makeup until someone comes up to help me. Which was only two seconds, which is great. So this guy in all black (as they do) sits me down in a chair and grabs their most popular lipstick. A44. I forget what it’s called but that’s the number. As he’s cleaning the lipstick before putting it on me, I try telling him I’m new to this whole red lipstick thing, but I think I need to get into it because it’s awesome. He proceeds to line my lips, fill them in with liner, then puts lipstick on top of that. You guys, I felt like a pale drag queen. Do I look like a pale drag queen?
I almost didn’t show you, because…well, because. But you’ve been with me on this red lipstick journey, so I feel I owe it to you. Please note my lip is NOT that crooked, he lined that side funny. Again…drag. The liner was out of control. Had a mind of its own. I told him maybe I need something a bit calmer, to ease me into the red lip, so I tried on four more lipsticks, and by that time my lips were stained and peeling from wiping so much lipstick and liner off. He looked at me with his hand on his hip and said “maybe if we put some…” then waved his hand up at my face “…bronzer or blush or something on you.” Okay, I get it! I’m pale! I don’t wear a lot of makeup! I probably should never have stepped foot into a MAC store! What was I thinking. I laughed (because lets face it, he’s totally right) then said I’ll walk around with this last color on my lips and see how it makes me feel (please see the shopping rules), and go from there. Then I took a picture for you.
The middle one is A44, and it actually looked best on me despite myself. I think maybe I’m just not ready for red lipstick? Love/hate relationship, people.
I said goodbye to DTLA and my mini-vaca, and took the metro back to Union Station for my
train ride back free happy hour. Riding the metro is fun, because it reminds me of the subway in NYC and I miss the city so much it hurts.
Then, for a very exciting turn of events, the too-small boots I ordered online (what is wrong with me?) were waiting for me at my house and get this…THEY FIT!
This is why I’m not a fashion blogger, folks. All the pictures would look like this. But those boots are pretty rad and I want to wear them every day of my life.
So, I’m I’m LA right now. It’s noon-thirteen. On a Friday. I got back in bed after a lovely breakfast at The Standard, where I demanded they put avocado AND eggs atop my dry toast, so I could pretend it was a Saturday and I was at home doing my usual home things. I’ve been sitting in bed (again) for approximately an hour and nineteen minutes, and I am just loving it. Reading, listening to playlists, gazing out the window at the TCW building (what goes on in there anyway?) listening to the fire trucks blaze by, smelling the sushi place eleven floors below me, and watching the sky grow a bit darker every seven minutes or so. (If you take anything away from this post, it’s that I loathe even numbers.)
It rained last night. And I’m hoping it rains today! I thankfully brought my new puffy black jacket, and am just tickled I get to wear it today. You know, when I get out of bed.
Last night I was at the iconic Greek Theater listening to an iconic band, The Airborne Toxic Event. Do you know the song Sometime Around Midnight? You know, the one that’s beautiful and heart wrenching? Yeah, that’s them. TATE and I have a history. You know when an album suddenly becomes the soundtrack for a particular era of your life before you even know it’s about to happen? I was suddenly living in this dinky place that used to be someone’s garage, my bed was in my kitchen was in my living room, and I routinely had to shove pieces of paper towels in the crack of the window so the spiders wouldn’t crawl through and lay eggs in my ear. But I loved that dingy, light filled place, because that’s where I was. It was right after Airborne Toxic Event released their album Such Hot Blood. Sure, I knew a few of their songs from the last few albums that were on the radio, loved them, but nothing hit me so deeply as Such Hot Blood. The music, the lyrics, his bleeding heart. They were reaching into my soul, pulling out my heart and watching it bleed. And I wanted them to do it. There is a different song for each part of my heartbreak. Different words for each memory, each pain, each dream, each hope. I have lived through far too many Fifth Days, yet I can’t get enough. All your songs are sad songs, but they’ve been hurting and healing me, and I am so grateful for that.
So, back to last night…fall was just about to hit Southern California mere hours after the concert ended. But we had perfect weather for the outdoor venue. The air was just crisp enough, the wind gently meandered through the trees and made Anna’s dress billow in time to her violin on stage. They sounded amazing, performed amazing. They had such a good mix of songs, from all their albums. They might have left out a couple of my favorite ones on their set list, but they played enough of them to touch my soul and break my heart all over again. To finally see them live was…well, it was epic, guys. I’m a bit sad it’s all over and I’ll have to wait for their next tour. But I’m so glad I made the effort to trek all the way up to LA and take a day off of work to see them. And I’m so glad this little band from Silver Lake made it big and got to play The Greek. They totally deserve it. You guys are amazing. Please keep writing music and keep breaking our hearts.
And now I wanted to leave you with some amazing photographs of the show that I did not take, but this awesome photographer Ryan Tuttle did, but alas, I can’t use them without his permission. BUT! Here’s a link…go check them out, he is quite talented. And has a pretty rad job, am I right?
I finally went back guys. It only took me ten months, but turns out I ran out of excuses and the only thing left in front of me was fear. I’m going to be honest with you here, despite my better judgment. Yes, I was afraid of jumping off that platform for the first time in almost a year. But that’s not what my fear was based on. My fear was people. The social aspect of it, I guess. All these people that I didn’t know (or barely knew from a year ago). I got myself so worked up about it the day I was first supposed to fly, that by the time I got home after having a great time up on the rig with everyone, I finally let myself relax and I had a real and true complete anxiety attack. What?! It’s over! Done! Why freak out now? One cannot explain irrational fears, they’re just there.
So, what did I do? Immediately sign up for the Saturday class in two days, and make a commitment to do it at least twice a week for the next month.
Here’s the thing…I don’t want irrational fear to control my life and stop me from fulfilling my dreams. I’ve had to do a lot of scary things the past couple years, some big, some small. I’ve been trying to do little things, like go out to eat by myself, for instance. And it’s all getting so much easier, I even enjoy doing some of those things by myself, now. And for some stupid reason, trapezing was giving me that same anxiety. The thought of going to a pilates or yoga class instills the same irrational fear. I really have no idea what it stems from or what I’m really afraid of.
ANYWAY! Enough about that crap. Lets talk about trapezing! I’ve been twice now, and it’s been so great, I can’t even tell you. People remembered me, made sure I was coming back, I did a fabulous warm up swing my first jump off the rig, then immediately did really bad almost every swing after that. HA! Yep, even the second class I just really did lousy. But I don’t even care about that, I know I’ll improve. I have a couple nasty popped blisters on my hands, but this beating up of my body feels really good right now. You know? My entire body is sore, my hands are killing me, but it feels so good to go out there and do something totally strenuous, pushing my body (and mind, lets face it) and just having fun! I got goals, yo. Goals are good.
I’ll try to get someone to take pictures or videos of me flying for you guys, but maybe we should wait until I’m not so horrible at it? Yikes. Once again, these aerial stretches have been a life saver. Thank you, Sarah! I’m particularly struggling in pushing through my two position splits. My back just won’t bend where it’s supposed to bend. I’m hoping those stretches will help.
Yeah, so, I’m stoked, guys. Fear is stupid, let’s just ignore it, k?
>> more trapeze posts if you’re totally intrigued.
I feel just like this girl right now. In despair. I have done the unthinkable.
I left my cell phone at home.
AAAHHHH! What am I going to do?? I’m going to be living like a neanderthal all day, that’s what. No checking Instagram every five minutes. What if I miss a tweet? How will I know when I get an email? What if someone texts me and I can’t respond immediately?? How will I find my way home from work without Google telling me where to go?! I sure hope today isn’t the day I get kidnapped, because if it is, they’ll have to find me the old fashioned way. Sleuthing!
What in the world did we do without a phone on us at every single moment of every single day? We didn’t need one. We let people leave us messages on our…oh no, I forget what it’s called. Answering machine! Wow, that was close. They’d leave a message on our answering machine (not voice mail) and we’d *gasp* wait until we got home from work to check it and call them back. What a world, right? Neanderthal world, if you ask me!
I didn’t have a cell phone until I was the ripe old age of 25. I got along just fine, too. No kidnapping. No one disowned me because I couldn’t answer their question within two minutes of receiving it. If I wanted to look at pictures, I’d open a photo album. If I wanted to tell someone something meaningless about my day, I would do it in person. And I never ever cared about showing anyone my food.
We live in a crazy world, folks, where cell phones reign. And I for one, am all for it. But today…today I shall treat as an experiment. I shall unplug for ten hours, and see how good I feel afterwards. Interacting face to face with people, and that’s it. Except for the fact that I have a desk job and will be in front of my computer screen(s) all day long and will check all six of my email accounts constantly just to be sure no one emailed me (I really need to consolidate my email accounts). And I guess technically I can check Instagram online, too. But I WILL have to find my way home all by myself!
If you don’t hear from me by 4pm I’ve either a) been kidnapped or b) haven’t figured out how to get home. Now, please don’t tweet or Instagram anything interesting until 4pm, because I don’t want to miss something as important as what your lunch looked like.
>> img source
Remember the time I lived in Downtown San Diego for a few days? Well, the first night I was there, I needed a place to eat dinner, as one does when they’re living at the Hyatt. I had a long important work day ahead, so I decided to just walk next door to Headquarters to find hopefully a new place to eat. Headquarters is the new shopping…place? center? experience? What would we call that? Whatever, it’s right next to Seaport Village. They converted the old Police Station to the shopping-whatever. They have a few great stores (some boring ones) and a few good restaurants. As soon as I walked in and saw this I was like…um yes. I’m eating HERE.
I walked up to the hostess and said “I need a drink, a taco, and I’d like to sit right there” and pointed to these two little awesome areas in the bar. She laughed at me (I’m used to it by now) and said not a problem!
I even had a view of my hotel! You know, to make sure no one broke into my room and stole my sweaty running clothes I just shed a half hour prior.
The waitress got me a gorgeously large glass of wine, a bucket of delicious chips with amazing salsa (I almost drank it, it was so good), and gave me the run down of the menu.
That middle section is tacos. That’s what they’re famous for. My boss ate here awhile ago and told me he didn’t like it. But lets face it, he’s much fancier than I am, and he did not order their tacos. I think he was expecting more Old Town type of food. Whatever, I would love to eat here every single day for the rest of my life.
I’m not kidding.
I asked the waitress what her favorites were, I told her what I was leaning towards, and between the two of us we got my order down. Three street tacos for $12. Not bad, right? I did upgrade one of them, but totally worth it. I ended up with the Chicken Verde, Carnitas (fan favorite), and the Filet Mignon (she swore by this one).
You guys. YOU GUYS. These were so good. I devoured them way too fast, almost ordered another three. But I refrained. I think four would’ve been perfect, three wasn’t quite enough. But did you see on the menu they have Taco Tuesdays?? $2 tacos! Think of how many you could get! I need to make my way down here one Tuesday after work for taco tuesday. And eat one of every taco on the menu.
I’m not kidding.
Okay so, after I inhaled three tacos, I sat in my swivel chair checking out people walking by, and…wait…who is that??
My sister! I had invited her to come join me for dinner, but she insisted on running instead. FINE. I was spending a couple days with her that week anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. But she was out running and decided to come find me. And find me she did! It was so fun. She sat down, drank all of my water and some of my wine (I get possessive. Let this be a lesson to you.) and we stayed there for a bit longer just talking. I informed her of the amazing tacos, and Taco Tuesday, and she just texted me from there this past Tuesday! Listen to me, people, I know things.
Then we went to the bathroom. I’m only telling you this because I liked the light and door and hallway.
So, what do you think? You gonna try Puesto?
So, it’s fall (sorta) and I haven’t done one fall thing yet. I really want to get into this fall thing, you know? Go to Julian and eat apple pie. Maybe even pick some darn apples! (where do you do that, by the way? I’m ashamed to ask, I’ve lived here most of my life and have never. been. apple. picking.) I want to sit in coffee shops and drink lattes with cinnamon and chocolate shavings on top and watch the pouring rain outside, and sketch in my notebook (okay, that will never happen because I am so not a sketchist). I want to buy multiple beanies, one for each day, and wear wellies and stomp in puddles. Rake up fallen leaves into a giant pile and jump in them (that one hurts, by the way, not as soft as the movies lead you to believe, I don’t recommend). I want to wear thigh high wool socks and chunky knit mittens. Make homemade soups and take long, hot baths. I want to stare out my balcony window and watch for lightening in the many thunderstorms we get here in San Diego (aka none).
See, that’s the problem. We’re in SAN DIEGO. Where fall doesn’t really happen like it does everywhere else. It’s still almost 80 degrees every day here, I hear a hot spell is coming this weekend. We get seasons about 2-3 months later than everyone else, if they come at all. I’m just jonesing for some fall, though! I want to force it. Pretend it’s here and wear fall clothes and do fall things! But then I’m just sweaty and miserable and everyone looks at me stupid.
What a conundrum.
I’ve been thinking a lot about friends lately. Old friends, new friends, the best friend I had in elementary school, the best friend I had in junior high and high school. And best friends after that. But of course, after you graduate school, you don’t really have just one best friend anymore. At least, I didn’t. I had different best friends for different reasons. Different occasions. And they all came from different groups, different parts of my life, in different times of my life. I never thought about the older friends as not really being my best friend anymore. I just started wording it differently. “One of my best friends”.
I started categorizing them: Current best friend that lives near me and I talk to on a daily basis. Best friend from high school. Old roommate that I will always love, even though I know every single one of her quirks, and she knows mine (yipes). Best friend that I had when I lived in a different city and we only email each other a couple times a year now, but she still holds a special place in my heart.
I think everyone goes through friend lulls. Where you move, or start a new job, or make another huge life change, and your friends shift a bit. Or a lot. And you’re in the market for a new, Current Best Friend. Well, how the heck do you do this?
You could be like me and just wait until someone falls in your lap and cross your fingers that it’s going to be a good one. Or you could do something different…
DATE a Potential Best Friend.
This is serious business, folks! You can’t just wait for a best friend to come along! You can’t be timid, and just be stoked the cool girl is talking to you. You need to act like YOU are that cool girl (because you probably are and just don’t realize it), you need to scour the earth for a girl that puts a twinkle in your eye, and you need to pursue the heck outta her!
Here’s my plan:
When I meet someone that I think could be Potential Best Friend material, I’m going for it. I’m not going to sit at home and stare at my phone, hoping she’ll call, even though I never gave her my phone number. I’m going to right off the bat invite her out for a drink. Yeah, I said it. A drink! (if she doesn’t drink, she’s no bestie material, let’s face it.) None of this coffee business, I’m going straight for the gullet. (is that even a phrase?) Just me and her. A real live date. We can talk one on one, get to know each other a bit, see if we click. We might not click. If we don’t, there will most likely not be Potential Best Friend Date #2. Sure, there will be group events and random texts and stuff, but I don’t want to be best friends with people that just aren’t ME. You know? Not a part of my tribe. Just because they want to, doesn’t mean I have to go for it.
Please don’t confuse this as being mean to people, that’s not what I’m saying. We’re talking Best Friend here, one that you ugly cry in front of, tell all your dirty secrets to, and dance hard, dressed up like Madonna circa Like a Virgin era in the living room with. Best Friend material is precious! You know this. I know this. We need to treat this seriously. And start dating potential besties.
“But what will we talk about on our first date? What if we run out of things to say?” Good question! Here are some talking points that might help you. Feel free to write them on your hand and hope you don’t sweat the ink off.
- What cities have you lived in? Which was your favorite and why?
- If you could travel anywhere tomorrow, where would it be, and what would you do there?
- What is your spirit animal? (mine’s booze.)
- What is your dream career? (if she’s already in it, get her talking about it)
- What the heck is that chick wearing over there?
- Want another drink? (only if things are going well)
- Check please! (if it’s not)
- Do you have kids? / Tell me about your kids? / Do you want kids? / Wanna hear about my cats? No? Okay, never mind (then go to #7 immediately)
- Tell me about some bands/musicians that you like.
These are just some starters for you. I suggest you start out by making your own list of qualities that are important in your Potential Best Friend. Perhaps one of these would be on your list:
- Good sense of humor (aka laughs at everything you say)
- Dresses well (what? perhaps you’re a bit superficial, like I am)
- Has kids / doesn’t have kids (this could be a deal breaker for someone, either way)
- Has some things in common with you (for instance, I would like someone that’s creative)
- Someone that inspires you, nudges you out of your comfort zone
Again, just some suggested qualities. But make your own list. Jot it down. Put it on the fridge. Or stick it in your Google Drive on your phone, so when you meet someone new you can quickly glance at it and see if that person truly is a Potential Best Friend or not.
I really think I’m onto something, you guys.
// above photo of my best friend Lucy and I at Del Mar Fair in 1990. Beeker & Animal 4Ever!