I grew up in small town Iowa where everyone knows everyone. I moved westward (ho) after one year of college. I always knew I'd leave, never even once considered that I'd live in Iowa for the rest of my life. I didn't even think about it, really, I just knew I'd leave. And so with a couple of twists and turns, I ended up in California in 1990. I feel as though I belong here.
I have a friend I have known since about age 13 or so. Her name is Paula and she happens to live about 20 minutes from me, and she also feels that she belongs here in California. Talking to her, spending time with her, is so familiar. It's an interesting thing about childhood friends and perhaps it has to do with being from a small town, I'm not sure. Somehow there is a strong sense of familiar that we don't have with friends we make later in life.
Paula is trying to help me find a dress for an up coming wedding that we are attending in November. Nothing is working for me. When I look online at dresses, I find myself drawn to things for my thirty-something self. I imagine myself looking really good in some of the dresses, then snap back to reality. I recently turned 61, I no longer slip into whatever I want to wear, knowing my perfect size will always work. Far from it. And so I try on dress after dress, finding nothing that works. I purchased one that I will probably return as soon as I find the right one. Paula had one for me to try but it was way too short. She has another one for me to try. She is determined not to stop until she helps me find the right one.
I love Paula. She is exactly what a friend should be. With her help, I am sure I will find something I feel comfortable wearing. But it better be soon. Even a good friend can't stop the calendar from turning.
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Baby, it's been cold outside. I know, not Iowa cold or Upstate New York cold, but cold still the same. Merry Winter!