Boxes unpacked, check. (if I just don't open the office door).
Walls painted, mostly check.
Nearest grocery store, Walmart, Target located, check.
Invisible fence installed, check.
Find new friends . . . oy.
Truth be told, I am an introvert. A talkative introvert, which causes no small amount of dissonance for me, but an introvert nonetheless. I am tempted to say, "Hey, I've got a couple good friends here in Orlando. I'm calling it good!" But that seems horribly shortsighted and unsociable, so I did what I guess the average American woman does this time of year and I went to a neighborhood cookie exchange.
After a few desperate, somewhat humbling texts to a new neighbor clarifying that I did not, in fact, have to bring actual cookies (I hate sugar cookies. I'm a bar kind of girl), I headed out to the party. It was only a block and a half away, and as I walked, I pondered my emotions. I was dreading small talk and the inevitable shock and awe when I explain my life. I was nervous that I wouldn't fit in, that people wouldn't want to talk to me, that I wouldn't meet anyone I liked. I was excited that I might meet someone who could become a good friend. In short, I felt like a kindergartener on the first day of school (although I imagine the average five year old brings little to the table that evokes shock or awe).
There were probably 50 women at this event! Most of them were older than me. A few homeschool as well. Most seemed to attend this annual party regularly. Almost everyone talked about how much they love living in our neighborhood (certainly a good sign).
I walked away knowing a couple women a little more, bearing invites to a clothing swap and a regular wine and cheese chat with a couple girls down the street, and wielding a large plate of cookies. I can't say I can check the box on "new friends" (I realize now a part of me was really hoping it would be that easy) but it was a step in the right direction.