My friend the mailman

Today I get to head down to Miami for one of my dearest friends' Bachelorette party! It's going to be so fun and I have been looking forward to this for weeks!

Since moving to Florida my social schedule hasn't been exactly packed. Not that I was such a party animal before in Texas but....well actually I kind of was. Brooks and I were involved in the church, he went to a preschool, I had so many sweet friends, great neighbors, and I was in Junior League, so we had something to do pretty much every day. It's such a big change when you move somewhere, and after all the hustle and bustle of unpacking boxes you are just sitting there starting at your 17 month old and I swear he's thinking, "Mom where did all your friends go? This is kind of boring."

Right when we moved into our house, I kind of started a bad habit of ordering things online just so the nice mailman would ring my bell and I would have someone to talk to. This is just a tad embarrassing when you realize what you're doing. But Mike the Mailman is so friendly! What's even more sad is I know everything about his life story thanks to some supplies for the Bachelorette party this weekend, my J. Crew swimsuit, Brooks' new Toms shoes and a few books from my grandpa. Mike is a middle aged mailman that's anything but boring. He actually competes in body building competitions on the weekends and boy would you know by looking at him in his uniform. Yowza! (Lonely, very lonely and bored housewife). Actually, I find his uniform a little bit distracting because it is literally skintight on his body, like a joke Halloween stripper mailman uniform. I racked my brain for ideas on how I could get a picture of this but I concluded that a) he would realize how creepy I am and we could no longer be best buddies and b) that really wouldn't be fair to my good friend, and at this point I only have like 3 friends here so I really can't jeopardize anything.

Another thing that has happened as a result of my becoming a reclusive cat lady is that I have started becoming increasingly and alarmingly invested in my TV shows. They are, after all, my extended family. I watch Guliana and Bill with Guliana Rancic from the E! news show, and their struggle to have a baby is played out on the show, and when they announced they were pregnant via surrogate on the episode last week I was a bawling gross mess. I actually called my husband AT WORK and interrupted him to tell him the news. He says "Ummm...that's great babe. Ok I'll be home soon." Probably said to himself "Note to self, buy my wife friends, this is a new low." You know how in the 50s and 60s your grandmother wouldn't even dream of bothering your grandpa at work, it was just unheard of? I'm calling up there to tell my husband news on my favorite TV shows! Yikes.

My final side effect of being friendless for the beginning of this move is Wendy. Oh Wendy! Wendy is my best friend at the grocery store. She's about 132 years old (seriously I think she's at least 98), and we are somehow on the exact same grocery schedule, so we chat at least a few times a week. Either that or Wendy is stalking me and waits in her car for me to go into Publix and then "just happens to be there too." Wendy has already taught me a few things about couponing, how to check if the avocados are ripe for eating, and how to make a homemade bath treatment for Brooks' diaper rash. This vixen is hilarious and I can't help but wonder if I'm turning into her. First, she travels with a fanny pack and I can't help but think that's just practical. I've been behind her in line and she whips out her coupons and checkbook like she's on Price is Right and the clock is ticking down. Her hands are free to expressively explain to me how as you get older you may lose your flexibility but not your sex drive. Like I said, Wendy is a vixen. (Any single male readers in their 80s living in Weston, FL? Contact me and I will hook you up with Wendy, you won't regret it).

I know that I will eventually make great friends here who I will be devastated to leave someday, and I really have already made a few great ones. I am one of those people who will probably wear you down so much with my cookies or cake pops, or oversharing of information or incessant calls about how Guliana is pregnant via surrogate, it's easier for you to just say we are friends than to fight it. When I went to a first lunch with one of the sweet girls who I have become friends with through our husbands working together, I was so excited I talked her ear off for 2 1/2 hours and I'm pretty sure I told her about my vaginal labor. Like, details. Sorry Jessica!!

Well I should wrap this puppy up. There's a new episode of Guliana and Bill I need to watch before leaving for Miami, and I think Mike is dropping by with the fanny pack I ordered!