Classified Ad: A sad whine without wine….

I’m looking for a BFF.

This is what I would like: a woman near my age, a writer, a reader, a wine-drinker, a going-outer, and someone who doesn’t live fifty miles away from me.

Sounds really sad doesn’t.

Well, I had lots of friends at work but then I retired, got married, moved fifty miles away; the company was sold and everyone moved on…I do see some of my good friends from work but only every few months. I do miss them. I was used to seeing most of them every work day.

I go to my writers’ meetings almost every month but that’s also fifty miles away. Some of them live almost another fifty miles away. I would love to be able to call one up and say, “Come on over. Let’s shoot the breeze, have some wine, go out to a movie.”

This is what I want – someone as weird as I am. Someone who won’t tell me I’m crazy because I watch Ghost Hunters or America Unearthed or Ancient Aliens (research, really). Someone who knows that I love to read and she loves to read and we talk books. Someone who writes and reads my stuff and gives me truthful feedback.

Once upon a time I thought I had someone like that. I was single back then and it was easier to have a female friends to do things with. But shit got weird and not good weird, crazy weird. She would accuse me of choosing to do something with my daughter over doing something with her. Like…nuh-duh. Then she started to try to hurt a family member who’d also been a friend. One day I got a fat envelope in the mail: all the emails one friend had sent to this crazy woman complaining about me. I gave the first friend the envelope unopened. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to get in the middle of her crazy.

I even had a boss who wanted to be my BFF and who turned out to be another crazy. I don’t think we even knew her real name and she was a Chief Operating Officer of the company.

So maybe it’s me….maybe I attract the nut-jobs,

In the last few years I’ve heard a new word about this: frenamies. In January, Psychology Today had an article about how to help girls cope. That’s great. But what about us “old” girls.

My husband is the best guy in the world. We have a lot in common and I love him very much. But every once in a while a woman needs another woman of her generation…

Even ones you may one day wheel into the nursing home with: