I suppose- it was literally as I had no friends available on about 7 consecutive days, and I just decided to throw up a few sentences and meet some folks.
They didn’t turn out to be friends long term, but they are facebook aquaintances.
I have several friends, but I see them a few times a year, or I move in with them, or they with me, occasionally, and we catch up.
I hear Chi-town is pretty good for meeting strangers, 'specially in the winter. You may just need to wait for snow, and stumble out into the wet cold to meet some amiable company.
Never been myself, however, so that is third hand from a couple of friends.
Hope things get better, MOL- being friendless isn’t fun, and it isn’t bad enough to feel like really whining, either, which can actually make it worse sometimes…
Wish you were near! If I am in the middle of the country, I will send you a PM!
Right. You don’t want to karate chop someone’s face. You’ll just fuck up your hand on their hard and bony face bones. You want to karate chop them in the throat, where it’s all soft tissue and cartilage.
With such poor martial arts skills, it’s no wonder no one wants to be her friend.
This sums it up well. Arkansas, Louisiana, Texas, Netherlands, Texas, England, Scotland, Texas (again), Seattle, Phoenix, Texas (yet again). We elected (rightly or wrongly) to follow the jobs, wherever they were. Economically, it was a wise decision, but it cost us almost all our friends. As mentioned upthread, it’s nearly impossible to make new ones as 40-50-ish adults. All the good cliques were formed decades ago, and the missus and I find ourselves permanently on the outside. As a lifelong atheist, I must admit the circle of friends is the one element of church life I find myself envying.
Really interesting thread, **MOL **(and no, you’re not whining… not even a little bit).
The other issue that raises its head is that we have little in common with people who never left their hometowns. Start talking about Africa and the first thing people ask is “weren’t you afraid of AIDS?” :rolleyes:
Absolutely. I try to tell my few old friends about the winter I spent on the Arctic circle sharing a cabin with a crazy Argentinian, and they ask me if I noticed their Farmville post on FaceBook.:rolleyes: I seem to have *nothing *in common with the folks I left behind.
I’m going to sound like an old lady when I say this, but I think social media is part of the problem. People have their noses on the internet during their free time instead of getting out and interacting with people. (I know I am.)
In any event, I’ve met most of my friends five ways:
School
Work
Kids
Neighborhood
Tennis
#1 - 3 are out for you for obvious reasons.
#4 - You don’t say where you live, but if you have a neighborhood pool or condo association, then I’d suggest joining it. Offer to be on a committee or a board. Or go for walks through the neighborhood and strike up a conversation with a neighbor. (“Hey, did you hear about those break-ins” is a great conversation starter. It’s how I met my closest friends in my neighborhood. ;))
#5 - Tennis is a great way to meet people because you join a club and their job is to pair you up with people of like skills for lessons and matches. Beginners are welcome, and they have tons of teams that you just sign up for. No try-outs. Instant friends! Ditto for volleyball or softball. Join a league. Or if sports isn’t your thing, join a book club.
#6 - Volunteer someplace that draws the kind of people you’d like to hang out with. For instance, most cities have organizations for 20-30 year olds who support the arts, mainly by throwing tons of parties.
#7 - Throw a DopeFest.
Seriously, it sucks being lonely. Hope everyone who is searching for some new friends finds one or five.
I moved across the continent. All family and friends are virtually 3,000 miles away. I am happy with my partner, three legged cat, and Dopers as company.
I really have no need to take up bowls, or find a local watering hole or do volunteer work.
I’m always up for a drink or two. It’s going to be very bizarre to find there are people behind these computron machines.
You guys are mean.
Ya know, I’ve just started looking into places to volunteer. The Craig’s List section for volunteers was of no help, as they are primarily seeking research subjects, and people to teach or build houses abroad. I’d so get into something to support the arts. Seems like that crowd would attract liberal douches, such as myself.
I’m interacting with you, and I assume that you’re a person as opposed to a robot. But it’s not the same as having a flesh and blood friend to go out and have drinks with.
No, it’s not the same, but when people are given the choice between meeting people out in the real world and interacting with them solely over the Internet, the real world wins most of the time.
Social media is a plus to real life interaction, not part of any “problem.”
Try VolunteerMatch - you can search by geographic area and keyword. Maybe docent at an art museum?
I moved continents to marry my husband, so I too have had the experience of trying to make friends as a grown-up. I joined a book club which I found on craigslist, which is great, but hasn’t led to any deeper friendships - we just see each other on book club night, pretty much.
While I’ve made friends at work, they’re work friends, and I think we just don’t like each other enough to bridge that gap. I volunteer at a wildlife rehab center, and so far, the only person there I’d consider a friend is the volunteer coordinator, and she’s paid to be nice to me.
It pains me sometimes that I have no good friends of my own around here, but there’s always Skype. Unforgiving timezones limit it to weekends though.
The thing about Meet-Up is that you really have to asses the subrosa vibe. Not every group started by a Black person is Blacks-only, and not every group started by a woman is women-only. They often won’t explicitly say so, but I’ve wasted long drives to meetings that turned cold in a hurry.
I can’t blame them, since I have been to meetings that were spoiled by aggressive young men in their prime ejaculating years who treat all gatherings as a meat market. But I’ve found that groups fall into specific categories of acceptance.
Avowed singles mixers: but scroll through the members list for the age demographic. Too many younger people in the group will leave you in the role of creepy old cougar or pervy old man.
Ad-hoc do-gooders, with heavy lifting to be done; such as at food banks or clearin vacant lots to make community gardens. Men always welcome.
Discussion or other self-improvement (yoga, walking, etc.): Usually intended as women-only, so I ask via e-mail before I hit “join.” I once did receive a snarky “OK , if you promise to behave yourself,” which I took to be a “no of least resistance.”
I’m housebound, and the internet is the only way for me to interact with people. I set up a message board for my [real life] friends and me to use to stay in contact - this was before Facebook and what have you.
I have made several new friends via the internet as well
This is a great website! Thanks so much! I actually found a place that looks great and is blocks from my apartment. You have officially rocked my socks.
My husband is a friendly guy. He has never met a stranger. I’m not so much. I could easily become a hermet, if not for him.
We have bar friends, racetrack friends, even swimming pool friends. But, they are OUR friends. If he’s not with me, they hardly talk to me. I guess the fact that I don’t talk to them doesn’t help.
Now, hubby thinks I should go out and find some just MY friends. I don’t want to. I have friends in other states that I love. When we talk, it’s as if no time has passed, even years later. I don’t need new friends.
This is how I entered my current social circle. I joined OKCupid so I could see people’s profiles for the online dating thread, and created a profile stating clearly that I was married and not looking for romance. A local woman contacted me and she’s become my closest friend locally. Through her I’ve met a whole group of people I’m now friends with. Earlier this month I went to her wedding.
