I'll take a rake massage, please

I went out last night. Normally when I go out, I'm vacationing at places like Costco, Giant Eagle and, if I get crazy, I make a pit stop at Target. There, I dream about purchasing things like cool patterned couch pillows that never get used and are strictly decoration, a blender so powerful that it pulverizes its contents in one second, and fluffy blankets that make you feel like you're curled up with a litter of freshly brushed golden retrievers, all to which I need none of.

I met up with a friend. A friend that is one of those feel good people. She's smart, beautiful, authentic and best of all, honest. I would say an honest friend is right up there with my love for chocolate, and we all know where chocolate is on my list of 'things I'd kill for'.  

Pretty sure this is me as a baby

We talked about everything from our love for good beer to my home birth experience. I may or may not have whipped out a picture of me minutes after birthing my daughter in a pool in my bedroom. (She's THAT kind of friend) We laughed a lot and shared personal stories. It was awesome. But, my most favorite part was when shit got real. I live for real shit. We talked about addiction (to which both of us have experienced in our family), things stupid people do and say, how stay at home moms deserve a paycheck, and lots of other good stuff. I love getting deep with people. I love connecting and sharing intimate stories that reel me in closer to their life. It's borderline creepy and I'm STILL comfortable with that. That's how I connect. Perhaps that's why I hate small talk. Engaging in small talk is less appealing to me than receiving a 90 minute deep tissue massage with a rake.  

Me: "A little more focus on the ass region. That cellulite has overstayed it's welcome."
Masseuse: "Ma'am, you're bleeding profusely."

Me: "I know. Keep going. I'm proving a point."

It's safe to say that we should all have a friend that we can be vulnerable to and share stories with that few have heard. That friend should also disagree with you on topics, tell you when you're wrong and laugh at you because something flew out of your mouth at top speed without versing it over with your brain first. You should be able to be yourself as if you were sitting by yourself, talking to yourself.  

As I've gotten older, I've done quite a bit of soul searching. Actually, I haven't had much time to invest in physically searching, however, it just happens. Because, between making sure no one removes their solid contents from their diaper and using it as a coloring tool on the white walls, and me successfully finishing an edible meal all the while nursing my infant baby while standing without dropping her seems to fill my plate plenty these days.
Go get yourself a friend like mine.

 

Then, eat chocolate.