Friends to Eat Muffins with

This morning I wanted a friend. Actually, most of the time I want friends. I mean Washington friends. Friends that I talk to face to face, not just through facebook. Wonderful, glorious, beautiful friends to share with and learn from. I want to be a friend as much as I want someone to be a friend to me. For what other reason should I have two aprons in my kitchen? It would also be wonderful if that printer/fax/copier were not the only other passenger in my car for the rest of my life. I want someone that will come over and make cookies with me. I want someone that will shop with me, not hover over my shoulder until I buy whatever it is in my hand at the time and run screaming from the store. (My husband is talented at so many other things). Is there no one out there to talk about nothing with? For the love, is there no one that I can take an interest in? The cashiers at Fred Meyer will only chat so much before they expect me to take my groceries and leave.
I feel I need to preface. I am a normally functioning female person. I shower regularly and only drool occasionally at night on my own designated pillow. I won't tell you about the digestive problems of my cousin's grandmother's three-legged cat the first time I meet you. The reason I am in want of friends is because I left all my cohorts, chums, accomplices and confidants behind in California. Washington must also be filled with people of excellent quality for me to hold dear, but I am shy about seeking them out. Out of school making friends has become this 18-step process where I chop myself up to be arranged and served on a platter. I garnish with my very best smile and see if anyone's hungry. The potential for rejection is daunting and legitimatizes what otherwise would be lame excuses for not talking to, calling, or even smiling at new people. These new people don't know that I once had friends and that they found me reasonably enjoyable company. They don't know I'm good for both laughing and crying. They've never seen me at my best or worst and there is no reason why they should want to. In short, they don't know me. I don't know them. But, maybe, maybe, if I could just get a foothold...
This morning it call came to a head when I found myself eating my dream muffin. I've been ogling this muffin for several weeks now, every time I go into Auntie Irene's coffee shop to get a cup of tea and get some work done or to just give my husband some time to himself. (As my social calendar is currently a wasteland populated only by occasional sympathetic tumbleweeds, my goldmine of a spouse endures the repercussions of a woman without outlet constantly and does enjoy some time alone with the XBOX now and then). But this muffin! It was beautiful from the moment I first saw it--the very syllables of its name were delicious: whole wheat banana blueberry. Someday, I dreamed, I would put that soft, dense, blueberry punctuated creation into my mouth and reach taste bud nirvana.
But the plan was the share this muffin with a friend. Then there would be an occasion grand enough to merit such a muffin. There would be a coffee date, planned or not, and there would be chatter over snacks. I would share about how I had been waiting for this muffin like Snow White waited for her prince, and they would share, and for that time the world would be lovely. I would have a friend - in Washington.
This morning the sun came out like it hasn't for a long time and Puget Sound glinted every one of its undulations with silver light and showed off like a primping peacock. I bought the muffin. I ate it alone.
Now we come to the point. I want that to be the last muffin I have no one to share with. Apparently, simply existing is not going to help me connect with the gems of friends that I know must be tucked away in this wet state somewhere. I have to go digging. Shy and scared I have to go. I want to have someone within driving distance to call my friend, and to walk through life with, for a little time, or for however long. Stand by, fellow wayfarers, I'm going to begin implementing strategy. I'm going to find someone to eat a muffin with.