Friendship

When I first arrived in Sydney, it was a complete reality check for me when I realised that once the boys and The Husband were sorted, well, I needed to sort myself.  I needed to make friends, I needed to get my shiz together and get hmmm, a life.  And that reality check was a long time coming.  Because pre-reality check my days were a blur of tears, boredom, being irrationally grumpy and uncommunicative to the family and just plain loneliness.  Sad but true, sometimes the only people I would speak to in a day were the staff at the local shops where I'd get my bread or meat. (and I still take them all a box of chocolates each year as my small and quiet "thank you" gesture).

So I can hear you saying, why not join a mothers group, or a club or approach groups of mums in playgrounds, and look, that absolutely works for most people and I totally applaud those people brave enough to take that step.  But all my friends out there will be nodding their heads knowingly, thinking "that's just not Lisa".  Because I've always been one to have a small number of excellent friends rather than a large number of good friends.  That's why my FaceBook friends is all of about 60 friends, compared with many hundreds for others.  I'm inherently shy and awkward around large'ish groups of people unless there is a friend I know well there that acts as my "anchor", I'm dead happy to circulate, charm, meet, greet and basically socialise like Jo Everybody, but only if a good friend is there, or The Husband, more often than not now, that I can escape back to and be me, before I duck off back into the throngs.

So one day, not long after my reality check, I was standing at school waiting for pickup, and for those that have done it, school pickups can be very self conscious affairs when you have noone to stand with.  Thankfully I'd always busy myself with Smith and Rafe in the early days, but I knew that I was standing alone.  The ever so pragmatic Husband would normally have said "who cares if you're standing on your own" but he was smart enough to know that I care.

Then I saw her.  I'd heard about her.  I'd heard that they'd just recently arrived from Atlanta and that there was a boy in Will's class who was also new.  She was standing just like me, with a little guy Rafe's age.  I watched her over a few days until I was sure she was who I thought she was. Then I went up to her and said hi, and introduced myself.  She looked relieved and I definitely felt relieved.  And over the next few days we carved out an acquaintance which we cemented into a friendship over wine and the pool and a kids dinner that Friday night.  Three and a half years later, my very dearest friend Kristin is heading back to the States to live.  We have a happy, easy friendship, and I am devastated that our very dear friends are leaving.  But Kristin has been my anchor, I have tentatively reached out and made new friendships, knowing that she was always there and that we had each other.  She has done the same.  

So today I'm about to start packing food, bags and everything we might need for 3 days in a sleepy beach town, just Kristin and all the kids and I.  And we will drink wine, and walk on the beach, and read our books. And I will cherish every minute I have left with her.

Old Friends

There are some things that are generally off limits in my blog, either by request or by some innate and surprising sense of tact and appropriateness. My mum, although offering potentially a minefield of material, my dad, once again plenty of fodder, it's just I never will, my former relationship and of course The Husband. I think my Sister would like to think she's off limits, but frankly she's dreaming. Someone who squashes their little sister under a blanket while tickling her until her claustrophic phobia is well and truly entrenched, and who tells a 13 year old that there is a prowler around the house one night when their parents are out, so that the 13 year old WETS HER PANTS, absolutely deserves some form of retribution. Right?

But I'm going to touch on one now, albeit, gently.

My last relationship (ok, marriage for all you pedantic-facts-need-to-be-100%-accurate lot) ended rockily, unhappily, and very dramatically. And along with the end of a marriage, it's not just the wedding gifts you need to divide, it's also locations (ie where you can be and they can't etc), memories (actually know they go into a great storage unit in your memory bank with noone to share them with) and friends. In my situation, one of my friends managed a beautiful arrangement where she could stay friends with both of us. (although I know if she had to rescue both of us from a burning building, it would be me first).

I'm not proud of the fact, but I was so strung out on survival and was mortified about my situation that I didn't work at friendships that I really really cherished. I put them in the "they're his friends' camp and moved on. But there was one friend in particular I always grieved for and missed and regretted not sucking up my pride and making an approach.

So love it or hate it, Facebook has much it can offer, especially in this situation where you know a name but not much else about how to get in touch. Last night, finally in a fit of courage and before I could lose my nerve, I sent out a friend request, with a humble kind of "I completely understand if you ignore this" type of message. And amazingly, this morning there was a response and an acceptance as a "Friend".

Tentative baby steps. I have much work to do now.

Girls

I've just had a fabulous weekend in Sydney with seven girlfriends from around the globe. Our connection - school, university, parties, boyfriends, Facebook amongst many other things. Somehow, we've managed to sort of stay in touch with each others lives and 12 months after an idea was planted, we actually succeeded in getting together.

For me, it was embarrassingly easy - pack a bag and hop on a ferry. But for everyone else there was significant effort and cost. Eight girls with their own lives and their own routines, foibles and goals together in a small house could be a recipe for disaster, or at least niggles. But no, this weekend was an exercise in compromise, understanding and working together to .....well, make it work. And we did.

And as one of the girls summed up perfectly in an e-mail to us, "...was great for the soul, and my cheeks still hurt from all the laughing...". And she's right. It was great for the soul. To be 40 something and still hang out happily with girls we've known well and not-so-well for over 20 years, and who we haven't seen for ages is a reassuring and loving thing.

I've always known there are some friends who I will care for until I die.

This weekend just showed me that circle has got a little wider.

Note to self: Walking under waterfalls during the storm of the year with a brolly given away in a magazine, and two of you under that brolly, is never going to end well. Sorry about the soggy passport Sheree!

Doing Christmas the old fashioned way

When did we stop doing Christmas the normal way and start doing it the online way? We send Christmas cards online, (how many do you have hanging up this year? My 6 year old has more than we do as a family), we "elf" ourselves then send it to friends or put it on Facebook and we tweet and/or text "mry Xms 2 U" thinking that this makes up for saying the real thing.

I was at the park yesterday with a bunch of my close Sydney friends and packing up, knowing I was unlikely to see any of them before Christmas, instead of giving them the warm "Merry Christmas" hug that I wanted to and would normally have, I just thought, “aah well, I'll send them all a note on Facebook and drop them a quick text on the day”. What would you rather receive – hug or text?

Do we use these new "social networking" tools to put off the warm and lovely “normal” social interactions because we are losing touch with intimacy between friends a little? Do we think we can be more "intimate" online because we're not facing or touching each other and that it's safer to say things this way? I dunno. But I do know that at Christmas, birthdays, births or god forbid, deaths, online friendships and gestures ain't good enough. This is the time for the real McCoy!

I have been living in Sydney for almost three years, and this Christmas, we have been lucky enough to have received two Christmas cards from friends back in New Zealand and zero phone calls. I've done my bit and called or sent cards with photos of my family. Ok, maybe I haven't written the generic Christmas letter but then I've never liked those things anyway. So this year folks, it's a record of almost zilch contact from life long friends back home. Actually maybe I'll kid myself and put the lack of Christmas "yes we're still friends and I'm thinking of you with love at this time when we tend to think of people with love" 'ness down to the 24 hour postal strike. But maybe that's a bit of a shield.

Fact is that our reliance of the online world is making us a little sloppy and well, lazy. And I’m absolutely no angel; I’ve done my fair share of online pseudo friendship gestures.

So this year I will still ring my oldest and dearest friend and warble “Felice Navidad” across the Tasman to her, as I've done every year since forever. Apart from last year when I posted a You Tube clip of the song onto Facebook.

Enough. Let’s bring back more than just the spirit of Christmas past.

Friends

Has it been a almost a last month since I last wrote? Crikey, sorry that I got so sucked up into my Oxfam blog - that kind of became me for months and really I couldn't get past it and the build up to that amazing event. However now that it's over my dear friend Sheree gave me a nudge - time to start writing again. I was like - but nothing interesting is going on, I'm just so uninteresting at the mo. She gave me the "get going girlfriend" kind of shove and here I am again. I'm back. I'm refocusing. I have projects. Oxfam Trailwalker is over and I promise to redirect all my writing energies into this blog again rather than my trailwalker one.

And here's the thing. The revelation. I got off the phone from Sheree and thought to myself that every time I talk to Sheree or see her, I'm reminded of why she is one of my best friends - she is funny and we laugh and we talk about important stuff, and she knows me and I know her. These types of friendships are pure gold. And I am so lucky to have this with her.

Thanks babe. (oh and the sunglasses and head thing are not normally part of Sheree wardrobe - only when she's helped drink many bottles of wine as was the case that night!)

I'm back.

Best Friend EVER

..or "Grain Waves Part 2"

A courier guy has just dropped a parcel off. It was light, it had familiar handwriting, and when I ripped into it there was a big green and gold packet of ....Grainey Mustard GRAIN WAVES. Yes!!!!!

So to all those who jokingly tsk, tsk 'ed my friend Sheree, redirect those tsk tsk's to me! I feel so guilty that I'm not sure if I can even eat the worlds most expensive packet of Grain Waves (inc $6.49 postage and a box).

Yes I feel stink.

Thank you dear friend.