...That's What She Said

Something very strange occurred somewhere between the state lines of Florida and Texas. I may very well have accidentally been sucked into a wormhole as I passed through the torrential rain of Mississippi. That... or the isolation that comes with relocation has put nostalgia into the forefront of my mind. First of all, the new job that brought me to this state is with a company I worked for 10 years ago. A few of the same people are out here at this office, but it's mostly new faces. Still, they say as much as things change, they don't at all. During my initial four year stint with this law firm, I was my boss's mole. My dependable, "do anything for the good of the company" work ethic often put me on the road to our satellite office to train staff and report back as to who was really doing what. Now, there's been a bit of an upheaval in the management structure of my current department. And despite the years that have passed, the training I've had, and the education and experience that advanced me into an executive level salary... I am once again being given the role of: mole. It's not that I have a problem with getting people in trouble who aren't cutting it in the workplace, but I can't help feel that my career has come full circle. Not to mention the fact that I once again see about five people on a regular basis that I used to see all those years ago... which is a bit strange on its own merit. In conjunction with this, the local radio station that I've yet to switch from plays nothing but late 90's and early 2000's alternative. I haven't thought about Incubus, Marcy Playground, Harvey Danger or Tripping Daisy in YEARS. So, for the few minutes before I plug in my iPhone, I get caught up in a wave of musically induced memories during my commutes to work. It could be the music more than the old/new office that has me thinking of the past a lot these days. I've thought about how I used to blog... and literally live to see the comments that I could post rebuttals to, continuing the thread with an entire set of witty banter. I've thought about several friends who I lost touch with for one reason or another. Ok, I've thought a lot about two of them specifically... a lot. Two ladies who once were my blog commenters, and I theirs. Ladies with whom I shared a fantastically absurd sense of humor. One whom I "broke up" with in the course of some very heated emails that spawned from my own insecurities about my love life as it was at the time. The other, I can only assume "broke up" with me, as one day we were in communication and the next we were not. Since moving to this state of desolation, I have thought about reaching out to both of them. Sadly though, my practical side tells me that if a relationship ends, it's for a reason... and one shouldn't go stirring up old messes. That same practical side reminds me that I have several dear friends (even if they are all a thousand miles away), and I should place my focus on staying in touch with them via phone, email... and of course, Facebook. I've thought on this over the course of the last few days and I believe I may just be looking to reconnect with the lost simply because they are familiar, they shared a bond with me that worked for a time... and that is much less frightening that going out and trying to make brand new friends. Especially in this materialistic God-fearing city. I really don't like country music, mini pigs, the mall or getting Botox done (not that I've had it done, but I assume I wouldn't like stabbing poison into my face), and those are the type of people I work with. I am a woman in her thirties who has no idea how to make friends. I used the internet to start a base of a friend circle in 2005 and cultivated it into THE most awesome group of friends ever over the course of the six years that followed. I really like those friends, whether I sought them out or they were a friend of a friend that I eventually stole... and I do not want to try to replace them with some local-yocals just because I don't like to drink alone. Two people have suggested that I join a meet-up group of some sort, but my interests are generally things I like to do solo. I love photography, but I absolutely do not like listening to others talk about theirs or try to critique mine. I enjoy writing, but I'm very protective of my ideas for fear that my original thoughts could be plagiarized. While I can imagine myself enjoying a hike or a canoe trip, I cannot imagine having a lot in common with outdoorsy people. The only reason camping went well in my old friend circle was because we were all kindred spirits with similar music tastes and an appreciation for liquor and beer by campfire... especially when the trip called for a rickety boat trip to a semi-deserted island. We were all the type of people who enjoyed the beach at night more than the day, as evident by our ironically pale Florida skin. I don't know how to find people like that out here... and maybe I don't want to. Because my biggest fear would be forgetting these friends after getting caught up in the lives of any potential new ones. The thought of losing touch with the circle I cherished with every ounce of my heart is likely one of the most terrifying fears I've ever had. Right now, in this moment, I wish I knew where that Mississippi wormhole was... because without hesitation, I would travel back just a few months to get a little more face time with the faces I miss the most.