Martini Fridays began because my friends brought the party to me. To my home. Seven years ago.
I was flat on my back with a newly diagnosed mysterious illness....fibromyalgia. I had plans to get together with my girl friends on a Friday night and I had to cancel because I felt miserable. So, I was lying down, cursing my uncooperative body on a daybed in my breezeway. It was a great summer night and I was contemplating an out of body experinece just so that I wouldn't feel anything!!! I heard a knock on the door and I saw blue eyes and a bottle of vodka...Jane had arrived with all the fixings for martinis.
She pulled up a chair next to the bed, sat down, and handed me an ice cold martini....ahhhhhh!
Martini Fridays was born.
I started to invite all my friends because I didn't feel well enough to go out. They came to me. The funny thing is that none of us are big drinkers. We just needed an excuse to gather, and wherever there are two or more women gathered there is a whole lotta talking goin on! And laughing. And the pain and exhaustion I felt melted away.
Friends are the great pain equalizers!! They are medicinal, they are a soft place to fall, and a compass in the fog, and every now and then they throw you a life line and show up with food or a bottle or a plan.
Martini Fridays continue to be an event. Everyone comes over, brings food, and hangs out. Martini Friday is not for the faint of heart. It takes commitment. A lazy friend won't like it.
Maybe women everywhere should throw their own Martini Friday. No kids (usually), no spouses-just a tidal wave of estrogen that flows around everyone and heals the bumps and scrapes of life.
My martinis are shaken, not stirred. Yours can be whatever you want.
Your pal
Adrienne
Thursday, April 29, 2010
How It begins-A life-long friendship is born...
Grammar School...a playground pact
In 1969, I stood on the frozen tundra of the playground contemplating my choices. I could go home for lunch or….. I could go home for lunch. Fifth graders don‘t have a lot of choices. As I turned toward home I heard a voice behind me, “Hey Adrienne, since nobody likes either one of us, wanna come to my house for lunch? We might as well be friends.”
Jane, a girl in my fifth grade class, had lain down the desperate gauntlet of friendship.
The invitation had all the social logic of a fifth grader and it was incredibly practical. I could finally hang out with a girl who was as matter of fact about social survival as I was. We sealed the deal over tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches prepared by her mom that day. Ahhh…the simplicity of childhood. It is that window of time in life where the blunt truth just seems like pure logic. I went home with Jane for lunch that day and forty years later, I am still going to her house for lunch. We are an anomalie. We are life long friends. The real deal. And we thought we were the norm. We were wrong. Today, we have coffe every morning at my house.
Nobody liked us because in fifth grade we were the “teachers pets”. It was the one and only time that I liked school.
A grammar school playground is a petrie dish of social drama. Recess is hell on earth. Picking teams for any sport was an exercise in humiliation for most girls. For some reason I was picked before some boys. Why? Because I could run fast, hit a softball a mile, and liked to push boys down. Hard. So did Jane. The years passed and we bonded over social traumas and slights that I like to think we managed more smoothly because we had each other.
Then the hormones hit.....
Middle school came on fast, just like all our hormones. Jane was distracted by boys and I still couldn’t figure them out. I lost count of how many times she went steady with some unsuspecting hormonally savaged boy. She was a feminine machine who actually needed a bra before anyone else did. The rest of us just demanded that our mothers take us for that rite of passage-the first bra-whether we needed one or not. In short, she left me in the dust. She was on a female trajectory I couldn’t comprehend. Launched into womanhood like an estrogen missile. I was in awe.
I am not an expert in friendship, but enough people have asked me along the way, Mom included, how I do it? How do I make and maintain my friendships?
The truth is, I don't know exactly. So, I thought that since so many people struggle with this, I would share my own experience without ego. I am not positioning myself as the "perfect friend". Truth be told, I am often a pain in the ass. But, if you have an amazing friend, or would like to be a better one, why not start now?
Share your stories and maybe we can figure it out together.
Your pal, buddy, confidante, and friend
Adrienne
In 1969, I stood on the frozen tundra of the playground contemplating my choices. I could go home for lunch or….. I could go home for lunch. Fifth graders don‘t have a lot of choices. As I turned toward home I heard a voice behind me, “Hey Adrienne, since nobody likes either one of us, wanna come to my house for lunch? We might as well be friends.”
Jane, a girl in my fifth grade class, had lain down the desperate gauntlet of friendship.
The invitation had all the social logic of a fifth grader and it was incredibly practical. I could finally hang out with a girl who was as matter of fact about social survival as I was. We sealed the deal over tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches prepared by her mom that day. Ahhh…the simplicity of childhood. It is that window of time in life where the blunt truth just seems like pure logic. I went home with Jane for lunch that day and forty years later, I am still going to her house for lunch. We are an anomalie. We are life long friends. The real deal. And we thought we were the norm. We were wrong. Today, we have coffe every morning at my house.
Nobody liked us because in fifth grade we were the “teachers pets”. It was the one and only time that I liked school.
A grammar school playground is a petrie dish of social drama. Recess is hell on earth. Picking teams for any sport was an exercise in humiliation for most girls. For some reason I was picked before some boys. Why? Because I could run fast, hit a softball a mile, and liked to push boys down. Hard. So did Jane. The years passed and we bonded over social traumas and slights that I like to think we managed more smoothly because we had each other.
Then the hormones hit.....
Middle school came on fast, just like all our hormones. Jane was distracted by boys and I still couldn’t figure them out. I lost count of how many times she went steady with some unsuspecting hormonally savaged boy. She was a feminine machine who actually needed a bra before anyone else did. The rest of us just demanded that our mothers take us for that rite of passage-the first bra-whether we needed one or not. In short, she left me in the dust. She was on a female trajectory I couldn’t comprehend. Launched into womanhood like an estrogen missile. I was in awe.
I am not an expert in friendship, but enough people have asked me along the way, Mom included, how I do it? How do I make and maintain my friendships?
The truth is, I don't know exactly. So, I thought that since so many people struggle with this, I would share my own experience without ego. I am not positioning myself as the "perfect friend". Truth be told, I am often a pain in the ass. But, if you have an amazing friend, or would like to be a better one, why not start now?
Share your stories and maybe we can figure it out together.
Your pal, buddy, confidante, and friend
Adrienne
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