Frating
Frating=Friend Dating…this is from the Lady Perspective.
When I moved to Boston three years ago I knew like three people in the area. In order to get out and about, I almost immediately began Frating.
It’s like normal dating but without the sexitime. As a kid, frating was pretty simple. Finding new friends was as easy as going to school and asking my neighbor’s favorite color or any other mundane non-specific detail that tells little to nothing of their personality.
See: Omigod, I totally loooooove Technotronic. Is that Hypercolor? You, too, subscribe to Sassy? We’re BFF.
Countless life-long friendships have begun on the basis of both eight-year-olds involved loving pizza the most of all foods. Later on, I sometimes found out that my new pal wasn’t exactly who I thought she’d be. This was unfortunate and typically involved some sort of rumor about bra-stuffing or having a crush on a boy. Sigh. But quickly I made new friends due to being surrounded by people my own age. Someone was bound to befriend me and act nicely. Even if I was the smelly kid.
Adulthood brought about a bit more of a challenge. By the time I reached late 20’s and 30’s just liking pizza didn’t cut it for more than a casual acquaintance or a roll in the hay. Having been pushed down and embarrassed by the girls in the school yard on several occasions, I was smarter than that.
Like dating, frating “guidelines” might became more stringent with age. Why settle spending time with people you merely feel luke-warm about? We are busy, important people now. You could be doing extra work, or participating in your favorite activity, or practicing any or all of the Seven Deadly Sins. Unless you choose to live the life of a hermit, frating is necessary upon entering a new locale or if you just want to shake up your social situation a little.
Ultimate goal: to magically find a comrade, an ally, someone I could commiserate with about any one of life’s triumphs and tribulations. Will settle for: staying away from that bitch and her minions who will throw me under the bus.
Let the judgment begin!!
So you start hanging out in places where they do things that you like. Knitter? Join a knitting club. Mom? Mommy group. Drinker? Any bar. Or any place you spend time. Have a job? Meet people from work. If you really try, you might get out without meeting a single person. Otherwise, someone will say hi. Talk to them. Exchange numbers or email addresses. Make a frate.
I frated. Oh, did I ever frate.
By colonial New England standards I am a witch. Single, cats, floats, makes houses out of candy to lure in children. You know the drill. Far be it for me to judge someone else and their lifestyle, but I do anyway. Little by little the pack sifted each other out and I found my cozy group of witches to be close with. I’d like to think that we’re of the good variety with a little dash of mischief and evil.
You know, as long as you don’t eat our candy houses.
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