the f word

The other day, the man gave me that cheerfully worried expression that said he was about to try something I wouldn't like. "Hey! How about you spend the whole day having fun with your mom while I watch the kids this Sunday?"

"Oh, ok. Why?"

"Well, I am going to have a brewing day. And invite... friends?"

Friends? What is friends? I suddenly realized that I hadn't made any new friends since leaving Maui. None at all. No friends. I am friendless. And for a moment I felt a flutter of panic, like when you realize that you forgot something important years ago (didn't I use to have sea monkeys?), and then I remembered that I am happier now than I have been since my desert hermit days. Small family, small library, small town, large open spaces, NO STRANGERS IN MY HOUSE. I have never identified with any movie hero more fiercely than I did as a child watching the stranded scientist in Never Cry Wolf as he peed around his campsite and vengefully ate the mice in his food stores.

life goals

So the man tried to get me out of the way in order to socialize with these people I don't know, which I appreciate, but his proposed brewing day fell on Super Bowl, and we don't have cable tv, so nobody wanted to come. "Friends", eh.

Maybe I need dogs. Dogs is like friends.