Who will attend my funeral?


I could have real life friends if I wanted them.

No, really. I could.

I have no doubt in my mind if I made the slightest effort to be a friend to somebody outside of my 8 – 5 job, that it would be reciprocated. The problem is, as much as I like the idea of having friends and happen to fancy myself a people person, I’m totally unmotivated to put in any sort of effort to do so.

Part of the problem is – I work full time outside the home and when I’m home, I’m doing household chores, taking care of children, going to whatever sports my kids are involved in and working on other business ventures and projects, which are conveniently of the Internet variety and require very little person to person interaction. Before I had children, I had lots of friends. My phone would ring and I would weigh my invitation offerings – hmmm…Rainbow Club or Smart Bar?

Now, the phone hardly rings. My kids aren’t old enough for teenage phone takeover, so when the phone does ring, my kids and my husband and I look at each other with curiosity, “Who could that be?”

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Recently, I’ve started to examine my lack of friendships further and wonder who would attend my funeral should a random icicle fall from our frozen gutters and knock me down for good. Of course, enough family members would show up that it may fill a 50 x 50 room, but I would still be humiliated from the grave and I’m not sure I can live with myself knowing that I would be unpopular at my own funeral.

Recently, I joined Facebook in effort to reunite with old friends and start socializing again, not because I particularly enjoy it, but because I want more people to show up at my funeral. I want to make my kids proud of their mom and feel as if she was well liked and had lots of friends yada, yada. The whole reconnecting with old friends worked for a while. I caught up with long, lost ghosts of my past and met them at organized gatherings set up by people that actually like that sort of thing. I went, it was fun and now I feel like I can go another 10 years without mingling and making small talk over a Bacardi and Diet Coke again.

I socialize at work, probably more than my bosses would like. This is plenty for me, but I also know that these are not people that would go to my funeral. I just don’t know them that intimately. Maybe a few would go to my funeral, but not enough to garner a popularity wow factor.

One of my old friends at our Facebook outing encouraged me to call her and get together with her again. She suggested I come over — her and her kids and me and my kids would have so much fun.

“But your kids are so much younger than my kids. They wouldn’t play together,” I responded.

“So what?”, said my “friend”, looking at me as though I was high or something.

I don’t get it. How would that work? Do people do this?? I am not of this world.

Of the few times I did do the Mommy Playdate thing, with one of my kids’ friends parents, all I could think about how annoying their kids were. I couldn’t focus on anything else and any argument between our kids proved to more effort to ignore than deal with, especially on a regular basis. I mean, who has time for that?

I can’t imagine talking on the phone with any friend, I have to have priorities, and after all, I hardly have time to squeeze in American Idol. A woman can only do so much!

So, I ask you, women of the friendship club, how do manage your life, family and friends and is it worth it? I only ask because I find it fascinating that parents have the time or energy to have friends and that anybody is interesting enough to provide that kind of time to.

Personally, I like my Internet friends. Very low maintenance. It’s like owning a luxury townhouse. All the amenities, none of the work.

So, am I the only loser here that doesn’t have a speed dial phone book on her cell phone? There’s nobody I want to speed dial. Is that bad?