Status update: Slow progress. But progress!

A few weeks ago my husband and I realized that in addition to our being introverts, we don't drink or go dancing. Social suicide, apparently. (Though, in our case, I think accepting an invitation to go dancing would also be, at the least, figuratively suicidal). Maybe if we did drink we could achieve a mental state frivolous enough to allow us to consider thinking about maybe going dancing, but we'd have to be too drunk to stand before the idea could have any remote chance of actualization, and by then, well, we'd be too drunk to stand.
We decided we needed to suck it up and join a small group, like every other happening Christian couple. Connect. Share. Grow. That what Christians do. We don't just hang out--we fellowship. Seriously though. The goal of a small group is to form real relationships and encourage one another in our lives. My husband and I buy into all this--pretty much. Except, we'd really love to find a way to do it all without leaving our couch. (He'd love to do it all without ever having to talk to anyone--let alone throw himself into a feeding frenzy of caring, relationally-minded individuals focused on just one thing: getting to know him. I might as well suggest that a vasectomy would be a really fun thing for us to do some Saturday afternoon).
Anyway, we did it. We went to a new church and were invited to their 20s-30s group. We took a deep breath. We showed up.
I think I might have been too old to go. I'm 23 and he's 25, so we're right in the middle of the age group, except for I now believe that married ages and single ages are like dog and people years. Fifteen months of marriage somehow added a grandmother's worth of un-hipness to my personality. When I walked into that group of young, vibrant, overwhelmingly vocal people, I felt like I had nothing in common with anyone there. In the midst of faux-hawks, fluorescent shoes and a general air of the young and over-enthused, all I could think of was that the most exciting thing that had happened to me in the last week was that we had bought a new toaster. (I'm not being facetious--not only did we get this thing for under $15, but it exalts bagels to near-divinity). I somehow doubted the 20-somethings would be on the edge of their seats to hear that one.
It was an awkward experience. However, from it I have identified two (2) targets. Objective one: female, very genuine, my age. After we left my husband said I should be friends with her because "she seems to have achieved a deeper level of maturity." My goal is to talk to her next Sunday at church. About what? I have no idea. I'm hoping she'll drop a handkerchief or something.
Objective two: At the young adults meeting there was a guy there that came late. At first I thought he had a speech impediment, but as it turns out, he's just Canadian. He's newly married and seems like a friendly guy that loves God. On Sunday (the day after the group) he sat in front of Husband and me. (I can't be constantly saying my husband, so let's just pretend Husband is his name, which is just as well because I often use it as such). Then, after church, the Canadian talked to us and said we should hang out sometime, since he too was doing the "young married thing." We agreed. He reiterated. You know the situation. "Hey, we should totally hang out sometime." "Yeah, we should totally do that." "Really, we should." "Yeah, we really should." He was completely sincere, but we failed to nail something down. It felt preliminary at the time, but now I'm thinking it might have looked like we were blowing him off. He might have been waiting for us to make a move so as not to tackle the newcomers like a school of piranhas. Aren't I trying to actively make friends here? I should have been the piranha! "What?? You want to hang out? What day works for you? Sunday? Monday? Tuesday? Any day? I work from 9-6 but I could get out of it... here's my cell number, my e-mail, let me just run out and buy a pager..." Husband and I realized our lapse and decided that next Sunday we are inviting him and his wife over for dinner. It's happening because I'm putting it in the blog. Of course, Husband won't be there next Sunday so I'll be on my own... but I won't fail this time. I'm like Inigo Montoya right now... my second chance I'll get the kill!
This morning I prayed for friends--Washington friends. Now it's up to me to be faithful, bordering on voracious, and make acquaintances into something more! Standby, datebook, you'll be running for cover...