I'm a Loser Baby

By Roxy

I'm a Loser Baby

This weekend, Orch comes for a visit. On Saturday we’re going wine tasting in Virginia (YEEHAW!) and then we’re meeting two of her college friends for Mexican and margaritas in D.C. (Andale, andale – ARRIBA, ARRIBA!)

Red Beard is heading up to Baltimore for a day of football and beer, and he’s spending the night at his buddy’s place. For better (night’s sleep) or worse (no sex, no ass grabbery, no giggles, no cuddles) I will sleep alone Saturday night.

On the one hand, the man will have been watching football at a bar all day with constant beer refills, and it would be a miracle if he were in shape to drive safely afterwards. So I actually suggested he consider staying at his friend’s house so that he can remain uninjured, alive and in tact. But I have to admit, I felt a pang in my heart when he said he will actually spend the night away from home. I’m such a f*ckin’ girl.

Because really, I know I’m going to have fun on Saturday. I have like, two friends down here outside of Red Beard’s circle. Okay, three that live in the area. But one is like an uber-busy-tycoon-politico with duel residences in New York City and D.C., so I don’t bug him too much. In fact, I have only seen him once since I moved – for his birthday back in October. The other friend has a pile of kids and a bun in the oven. She was a frickin’ wild child in college and we still had a great, albeit more buttoned up, time at my company holiday party. So yeah – seen her once since I’ve moved down here. The other is Velvet who I have – yeah, um Velvet? I think we hung out once? Oh yeah, twice. We went shopping. This is unacceptable. Call me.

So anyway, the point of this whole speech is that on Saturday night, I get to meet two of Orch’s college buddies, which is causing me to see potential for friendships so that I can broaden my little world. That way I can stop limiting myself to hanging out with people who are – I will be honest here now – really more Red Beard’s friends than mine. It’s not to say I don’t love these people, because I do.

But let’s just say – okay not happening and I’m not inviting anyone here to think that there’s a crack in our foundation – but if Red Beard and I broke up, he would get all the friends. It’s just sort of a natural thing, nothing for me to take personally. They all share a deeper history, plus a certain brand of humor (constantly at each other’s expense) that isn’t 100% my cup o’ tea.

It would be nice to have friends that are more mine. People who belong to me. People who I can say, “Hey honey, do you mind if we go out with so-and-so tonight?” as opposed to always leaving our social life up to Red Beard, as if he has no choice but to be my cruise director, since I’m not bringing any social life to the table.

The other obstacle I’ve sort of left out is that I’m busy. Even with no friends, I can always find something to do. Right now my main focus is on getting into porn-star-hot-ass shape. So going out to eat and drink isn’t exactly on the top of my list right now. Paula, Basil, Orch, Socialite and LL have been serving me with a steady diet of tele-friendship through IM, email and phone conversations. I need to talk, I pick up the phone or login. I haven’t felt the slightest bit lonely or lacking. So it’s hard to push myself into getting people HERE, where I live, when I’ve been so virtually coddled.

Next month, I bounce back into novel writing. That said, between keeping up the bod and the book, it means I would actually have to consciously decide to create free time in order to socialize. Maybe once the bod and book get into a comfortable rhythm between work outs and a solid writing schedule, keeping up friendships will come more naturally and feel like more of a pressing need.

God, life is so different now. In NYC, I was the biggest social butterfly and I needed to have plans every night of the week. I guess I can just chalk that up to youth, but I don’t feel the need to be out all the time anymore. However, once I get thrown back into writing the book, I might just need to get my butt out to see people so I can keep the material fresh and keep things interesting … yup – that's the ticket. I can’t be a hermit and be a good novelist, now, can I??

Besides, nothing wrong with cultivating comraderie and companionship. I better get my sorry ass some friends!

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