Dear Bitter Amanda,
My case might be a bit particular but my question is pretty universal. After recently ending (not in a good way) a long-term and often long-distance relationship and spending a year abroad during which my parents moved across the country, I will spend my summer living at home and working in Denver. In short, the forecast for my summer is heavy loneliness with a chance of culture shock. I would really like to make some friends, preferably of the male persuasion, but I am completely lost as to how to go about doing that after not being single for the past 4 years, not being in the US for the past 10 months, and never being to Denver ever! Do you have any tips on how to meet people? How to avoid too much parent-time? Any good summer airline deals so I can visit my friends around the country?
The Lone Ranger
I freaking wish I knew about good airline deals! The few people who can tolerate my attitude for long periods of time are scattered around the country/world.
Summer is quickly coming to an end, so I have managed to dodge the too much parent-time question. Hooray for me! And once again, my extreme procrastination has yielded positive results. (In fairness, I did warn readers that I would be away. But you all have lots of issues, so it couldn't be avoided.)
Meeting people is tough. Meeting boys is even harder, unless your standard for male companionship is quite low. If that's the case, dollface, head to your local bar! Any bar will do! Please be prepared to discuss the finer points of Transformers and your position on beer pong vs. beirut. If you're looking for something more, then I'm out. I have no idea where the nice ones are hiding. I can't imagine they've formed some sort of underground society, but it's entirely possible...since they are nowhere to be found. As for friends, go sit somewhere public and either play Solitaire or do a Sudoku puzzle. I've never been able to do either without someone over my shoulder wanting to help. (Which, by the way, family and friends, is SUPER AWESOME OF YOU. Really. I mean that.) (Oh, wait. No, I do not. Alone time is alone time, dammit.)