I have become accustomed - no - appreciative of the eccentricity of my friends. This weekend I spent two very different evenings. On Friday night, I enjoyed the company of past colleagues from the happy brick building where I used to work. It was a potluck dinner, where I was one of the most pedestrian of the chefs. Some of the dishes were vegetarian, some from different ethnic origins, and some were just outright inventive. The discussion topics ambled through travel destinations, changes in breast size when you are pregnant, middle-east cooking, authors I'd never heard of, the impact that blogging has had on the creativity of the great unwashed and the act of admiring musicians while playing down the fact that you're wearing a T-shirt with the musician's name and face on it. The time never flies by so fast as when I'm with these comrades.
Saturday evening was ... nice. We spent it in the company of a nice family that does ordinary things. We made pizza and watched a movie. They have well behaved and likeable kids. I didn't feel stretched. At all. Don't get me wrong - the evening was pleasant. It just didn't fill my soul like Friday did.
I love my friends.