tender at the bone: book one

I remember our first book club meeting like it was yesterday. I was nervous. I had just moved to the smaller town of Roseburg, had no friends, no family, no job and was pregnant. Joy.

I suppose you could call me an initiator. If you can't find something, start it yourself. And the best thing with starting it yourself is that you are automatically the boss. In college, I couldn't find a hip-hop dance team, so I started one. I'm proud to say the University of Oregon Jam Squad rocks whatever floor they walk onto. After graduation and getting laid off from my first job, I moved home. Couldn't find a job, so I made one. I founded the magazine, Button, out of Portland - however, after two issues the economy put that fun to an end. So far, initiating book club might be the best thing I've started. 

I've always been a social butterfly to say the least. I was the student that got "Very outgoing and social, but distracted from class," on her elementary school progress reports. In high school, I was more concerned about the latest way to fold the note I just wrote my BFF, than some math problem.

Moving to a new town was not scary. I had done it many times before. But this was a small town - a town that my city friends gave me a lot of crap for moving to. I was lonely, bored and growing by the minute. 

I had a few contacts in town and a new friend or two, so I sent a mass e-mail, stalked locals around my age on Facebook and told everyone I ran into about the book club starting up. I started to see that it was much easier to meet people in a small town than a big city. 

The first book I chose was Tender at the Bone: Growing up at the Table by Ruth Reichl. Being the entertainer that I am and not the reader - I chose a book that I could theme for the monthly dinner. I set the meeting date and started reading. Ironic that I was starting a book club to meet friends, not to read - and pretty soon, I couldn't put the book down.

The official book club meeting came quick. I had no idea who or how many people were coming. I was just thirsting to have women over to talk about periods, pregnancy, husbands and makeup. I was also thirsting for lots of wine. So I poured myself some grape juice in a wine glass and listened for the door bell.

The table was set with foods from the book, candles were lit and my husband was locked away. I had no idea if these people would actually want to talk about the book, so I marked pages and rehearsed my opinions and thoughts. I felt like I was trying out for something.

In walked four women, only two that I knew previously. Immediately the room filled with estrogen and I felt alive again. We ate, we drank and we laughed. I was relieved that they too wanted to talk about their kids, weddings, their jobs, homes and hobbies. We probably talked about the book for five minutes. It was exactly how I imagined, a total cliché. I loved it.

After cleaning the buffet, except for the liver dip, everyone headed home with a new book to read and new friends. I crawled into bed next to my husband, chatting his ear off about the conversations we had, where so-and-so lived, how so-and-so is getting married or how so-and-so also had that during her pregnancy.

Everyone knows what happened the next day. We friended each other on Facebook and ordered The Time Traveler's Wife. No longer was I tender at the bone, I was in the process of making some of the best friends a person can have. 

Until next month...

Member Ashley reading away.


NikkiDarlin' said...

Oh lucky. I would love to be apart of a book club. I'm just too shy to go to one if I found one.

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