"stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz…"-The National

Hi Rob,

It was an email.

Oh Boy!

I hadn't received one from this sender in a while. In fact, I hadn't seen her around at all. She used to show up for our writers' group, but lately she's been in hiding.

"Hi Rob,"

She knew my name too! She wasn't excited about it to exclaim it. All she needed was a comma.

It's funny the people that flow and ebb in life. One moment you're swept up in a tide of friends, the next, you're tossed alone, head in the sand. I believe these meetings are not random: You can chart them. Each face is a jigsaw piece, fitting into a pre-designed spot. The writers group is proof for me.

I joined a few years ago, while writing my novel. I needed outsiders with opinions. What my first months' meetings brought, were me, a bitter hippie, and a high school girl. Sure, great start for a sit com, but in reality, it doesn't play out. We stared at each other. The girl did homework, I looked at my work, and the hippie reminisced over halcyon days, when people communed and worked for the group.

I quit. I couldn't get anything from that gathering. MyUnwife insisted I return. Not only did she believe the group would get better, she also believed she liked the time alone in the house. With me there all the time, she didn't get that. With me gone, she could schedule time to herself. She was like a mom forcing her kids to go out and play rather than leaving them to meld with the sofa, sighing, "I'm bored."

So I continued going. That's when new people started showing up. The group burst to life, and within a year I found myself leading them. Faces came and went, but the group remained, waxing and waning. Sometimes two, sometimes twelve, the moon, the tides, it's all like the group. Good thing too, cuz they're connected. The moon and tides I mean--my group isn't really connected, but that's why I do a Christmas Party.

Every year I bring the group to my house, and we sit without critiquing each other and talk about things not our books. This year I wasn't so sure. It's a lot of work for one person to set up, and I know how festive I am lately.

Maybe the woman who emailed me knew this too. The email asked if I'd like to attend a dinner party with her this weekend. That took me aback. I hadn't expected to be invited to anything. I didn't think she knew I existed outside the writer's realm. Even with "Strictly platonic" smattered throughout the letter, I was still flattered.

Flattered and smiling.

Strictly platonic.

I had to laugh. It was a weird Deja vu. A little over a year ago, I repeated the same words to another friend. We'd invited her over for dinner. We'd also invited a guy from MyUnwife's work. He'd caught the divorce bug, which swept the nation faster than the latest dance craze.

Divorce fever: Catch it!

Anyway, I sold the dinner to my friend with the same vigor: "Food, friends and fun, what's not to love? What's more, this is just platonic. It's not a set up." Now, a little over a year later I'm reading the same thing in an email. Funny how the bored face on the beach changes over time, but the waves are still the same.

I wanted to say "yes" to dinner; It sounded like fun, but I couldn't. A friend from Arizona is coming out Friday night. My bored and I were promised to another wave..

That didn't stop me from grinning though. It's cool when people remind you that you exist. It's the first invitation I've received to anything since MyUnwife invited me to participate in a divorce. Platonic or not, it's good to be waved at.

So, I emailed her back. Made sure she know that I really did have previous plans. Even made sure to let her know that I was considering the writers' group Christmas party, and of course If I had one, she'd be invited.

My correspondent surprised me again. She emailed back saying that if I wanted, she'd host the Christmas party. How lucky can I get? Considering I don't have the furniture anymore to hold a group larger than two. She said her house would be fine, all she needed to know, was when to hold the party.

Whoa! One step at a time! I've still got a lot of other things to figure out. Like when am I going back to Prescott. My mom hasn't called me back yet about Grandfather's service. I'm told it'll be at the VFW, but I don't know anything more. There's time off to request, and parties to plan. This season looks to be crashing down upon me. We'll see who's left when the tide goes back out.