I am a devout fan of a few blogs, including Rants From Mommyland and Derfwad Manor. The ladies who write there are impeccably, fantastically wonderful, and the commenters ("ranters" and "derfs," respectively) are supportive, funny, articulate, and loyal.
I find myself wondering, "where ARE all these amazing women, and when can I have a few of them over for coffee?"
This thought is reflected in the comments too, because so very many comments say "I wish you lived near me! We'd be besties!"
It occurred to me; these ladies ARE near me. They are sitting at home or at work, reading the blog, commenting. I pass them in the grocery store or at the intersection. I go to PTA meetings (ok - no, I don't, but SOMEONE does) with them. I listen to them on the radio and tip them at the restaurant. They have their children come take lessons from me, they teach my kids.
We're all just too shy to talk to each other. I honestly wish we could all get bracelets or pins or something, identifying each other as Us. But writing takes thought (if done well). Our everyday conversations are usually so distracted, so information-driven (so, what time is that appointment? did you want regular or decaf? what was my kid's grade?) that we don't spend any time on personal development between us.
I wonder how to do this. I want to be REAL friends with my pharmacist, with my kid's 2nd grade teacher, with that one woman I see walking her dog. Would they find me weird to approach them?
Is it any wonder that we feel alone? That we find our best companions in the ether of chatrooms? That is one of the few times when we can stop asking questions, stop making arrangements, stop doing for others, and just talk. Talk like we did at summer camp when we were ten. Share secrets, make up nicknames, get girl-crushes, gossip, laugh, cry.
I think "we" are out there. Right under our collective noses. We need a secret code.