I've Got Friends in Low Places (don't worry, I don't really like Garth Brooks)

As we get older, it definitely gets harder to make friends.  When we're young, we're thrown together in a big playpen called "school."  We're forced to share with others; we learn how to communicate; we loosen up at parties.  We work in restaurants and at the mall together.  We sit next to each other in classes.

While living in Korea, we gelled with each other because we were foreigners in a foreign land.  Our glue is the strangeness and our loneliness.  It took me a long time to remind myself not to make friends with people whom I wouldn't befriend in my home country.

And when I moved to San Diego, I was so worried that I wouldn't make any friends.  I know, I know...it does seem ridiculous.  But I didn't know how or what or where or when to do that.  I felt awkward.  Uncomfortable.  Afraid.

However, during the past few days, I've realized how lucky I am to have met the few people here that I have.  Of course, my old friends will always hold a special place in my heart, but it feels as though those doors in my heart have closed by Time and Distance (to whom I am shaking my fist).  It's the fault of no one, really.  Unless the blame is mine.

I had dinner with B tonight.  She complained about work and life.  Not COMPLAIN, just unloaded.  Then she started telling me that her friend's sister was schizophrenic.  Suddenly, she said, "I shouldn't complain about work.  Life could be worse."  Sure, I couldn't agree more.  But does that not mean that the problems in our lives are not at all important just because someone else has it worse?  Of course not.

Last night, V came over.  We ate kalbi with Z (who grilled it) and just talked.  It was just a relaxing night.  Who could ask for more? 

So I raise my glass to those of you in my past and present.  Whether we met at work, school, or some strange bar, I am lucky to have or have had you in my life.