Making friends is easy, making friends that cook you dinner is a whole different story. Let me start by saying I had a great time this weekend, I helped a new friend celebrate his birthday, and joined the girls is kicking his ass at Rumikube. This, considering he’s a HUGE fan, is an added bonus to the glee. While I was indeed having a good time, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think that back home in SLC, my friends were having Movie Night. Movie Night is something I started awhile back, and we would gather and watch mostly cult classics or campy B-movies. This always involved a large amount of alcohol, a late night bitch session over whomever somebody was dating at the time and always, ALWAYS involved dinner cooked by one of my best friends.
Many years ago in SLC, I was fortunate enough to meet one person who is wonderful, talented, creative, expressive and very well known. Through her came a plethora of individuals who became friends (some enemies but we don’t discuss them). I met two guys who have become the best friends I have ever had and those two boys can cook! I mean, they can really create amazing, delicious meals which inevitably brings together many people. Countless evenings I’ve sat perched on the kitchen counter with a glass of wine and provided a running commentary while they were busy creating a masterpiece. Sometimes it was a solo preparation and other times it was a dual effort. But I always had my spot on the kitchen counter, it was my spot. And since I am now here, I can’t help but wonder if some woman has taken over, if she is now the matriarch of the “urban tribe”, is this person now taking over my beloved, well-worn groove on the concrete counter-top? Do I no longer have an exalted position within the family?
And as I sat on this deck playing Rummikube, eating grilled hot dogs; I really missed my friends and thought to myself, “Yep, it’s easy to make friends, but harder to make friends who will cook for you.” Friends, who make dinner for you, know what you like and don’t like. You share history with the friends who make you dinner and, most stories start with “Remember when…” This is the hard part about being here and them being there, this recreating good friendships, strong friendships and lasting friendships.
I know my urban tribe will always be there, and I have no doubt that I will make friends with people who make you dinner, it just takes time. And I promise to be nice to whoever has taken my place whenever I visit, but I will want my seat back!