Meeting new people…I have to make such an effort. I’m someone who prefers to be alone and to spend her time doing the things she’s SURE to enjoy and wants to do, so I find it difficult to make the time for, get myself out there, and socialise, with people I don’t all ready know.
The getting-to-know-you phase can be a pain…you make conversation, rack your brains for something to talk about, and circle each other all night, only to arrive at the conclusion that you are bored to incontinence, that all was a waste of time, and you are quite sure that you will never really work up a similar enthusiasm for the Martian Piloted Complex…no matter how hard you try!
So I am cautious about making new friends. Too many of these “new friends” have turned out to be emotional vampires—leaving me feeling like I did all the entertaining, all the talking, or all the listening (to tales of woe, tales of spleen, or just to a long, eye-glazing litany of local vegetable prices)—and lead weights around the neck. Too many of them have nothing of their own to do, and are drawn to the fact that I seem to always be busy with something, so they want to come and watch and marvel and bask in the “wonderfully creative energy” of my space…without giving anything back.
But sometimes I listen to my intuition—that gut feeling that this time will be different—and accept an invitation to a party, or agree to meet friends and be introduced to somebody new, or arrange to meet up in person with an internet acquaintance…to find myself in the company of somebody so likeable, so simpatico, so oddly familiar, that I bless the random events that brought the meeting about.
Saturday night was one of those happy nights: an auspicious conjunction of tides, stars, weather, ingredients, finances, time, and mood. 1D—someone I had briefly met online through a travel org’s website—let me know he had moved (well, more or less) to Darwin. We agreed to meet up for dinner on the boat. And it was the most fun I’ve had in Darwin since channeling my inner funk diva at Barry Brown and the GetDown.
I made a frugal dinner—raw asparagus spears and a cream cheese dip, chunky slices of kalamata panino, spaghetti with a tomato-based sauce and bacon rashers, a little bit of broccoli, red wine, fresh basil and shredded pecorino. AND this awesome dude had seconds…plus triple nice guy points! There was even dessert, but it was store-bought and neither of us had much of that.
1D brought a couple of great wines to dinner…the label on this one, a fruity syrah (shiraz) from Côte-Rôtie in the the Rhône valley (hence the comic “Croak Rotie”) was so cute that I peeled it off and stuck it in my journal, for the next time I need to buy a bottle of good Shiraz. It was very, very nice.
Lots of laughter; one good, meaty conversation after another…thought-provoking, eye-opening, chock-full of ideas…I was so delighted, I had to write in celebration of such serendipitous meetings, few and far between though they may be, that graciously keep the level of friendship’s well filled to the brim.