They Could Be Fockers

Laura, Jenny, Colleen, Liz, Lauren, Mandi, Heather; June, 2007

The whole "introduce your significant other to the parents" scenario is one thing, but in my book, equally as important (and possibly as scary) is the induction into the full social circle.

As you've likely read, I have a great and very hilarious group of friends that I've been close to since the early days. As in, elementary school. Like, pre-puberty, pre-drivers' licenses, pre-dating, pre-marriage, pre-jobs friends.

[Insert birthday shout-out to two of them, Elizabeth and Jenny, who happen to share today as their day, and happen to be celebrating together tomorrow night. I'm green with envy. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my two favorite Geminis!]

Back on track.

Anyway, these friends, or "The Posse" as we've affectionately referred to ourselves since about 1992, are my rock. Despite the distance, these are the girls that know everything about me, good and bad, and love me anyway. Tease me incessantly about some of them, but let them go. These are the girls that were there when I made bad choices, have funny character flaws or embarrassing moments.

To save them the effort, I'll recap a few that are public-safe:

1. Alcohol lessons.
Vodka and Hawaiian punch = throwing up on condo carpet on Spring Break = nicknaming me "Resolve" after the carpet cleaner.

2. Character traits.
I tell stories. Long ones. And, if I get distracted, I often lose my point and digress and regress and eventually make my way back to the point. And, since I don't want to leave out a single detail, I often have to go back and retell a specific point. But, this style has deemed me worthy of only two backtracks per story, to keep things moving. Whatever works.

3. Communication skills.
Despite the fact that I am in client service and communicate for a living, I am pretty bad at communicating with my personal contacts. Meaning, I don't call. I'm terrible at this, and often am even bad at returning voice messages. Or emails. For weeks. If ever. I think that the girls have finally stopped taking it personally, and even forgave me for it long ago. Let's hope?

Ok. Moving on, lest I dare to backtrack yet again.

The point is, these are the people that matter. Yes, meeting the family is huge, and when you bring a new significant other into that mix, anything can happen. I have parents and a sister who know and love me, and want what's best for me, but they also know that I have to figure things out on my own. Especially the affairs of the heart. They're unconditional. That's part of the deal.

Girlfriends, however, are not that way. They are going to tell it like it is. They're not going to let you forget the silliness or the bad choices or the embarrassing moments, or the terrible outfit or the time you made this exact same mistake before and didn't learn from it the first (four) times you did so. These are the blunt speakers of truth. The honest reflection of what's what.

And don't we love them for that?

This fact just means that when it comes to bringing your new (and lovely, charming, smart, handsome, kind, generous and thoughtful) boyfriend into the mix, it can be interesting.

I'm not going to go as far as to say that I'm nervous, but with the Costa Rica trip coming up in just eight days, I've got to say that I'm saying secret little prayers to God that it all goes well. I want them to like him, to see what I see in him, to appreciate his humor, to find him attractive (but not TOO MUCH), to laugh when he laughs and to let him be himself.

And, on the flip side, I want him to offer up those things for them, too.

I want him to fully GET IT.

I want him to respect our history, allow us to wander down memory lane, welcoming us back with open arms when we return to the present. I want him to get to know each of them, to respect their differences yet appreciate how we all fit together. I want him to develop opinions on each of them, to be able to comment later to me that he "really likes how Mandi is always the one listening to my stories" or that "Lauren has the best laugh and I can't help but get caught up in it" or "that Jenny, she sure talks fast, but her comments are so funny that I stay with her" or "Liz sure does remember everything, but it just shows how much she cares about you" or "Heather surely is well-read and well-traveled, my she's interesting!" or things like that.

Ok, not in those EXACT words, but you get my drift.

To dress myself in these same clothes, to really feel the pressure I've put upon him, I'm allowing myself to be put in the parallel situation with his guys. I am going with him to his parents' house in Michigan tomorrow, for the long weekend, and I already know I adore them, and his sister, too.

The biggest "test" will be the huge group of high school and college friends that he has invited to Saturday's beach party and bonfire. I already know their names (or their last names, or nicknames, or whatever they answer to when called) but I have yet to go any deeper. I look forward to getting into it, hearing their stories, watching them interact, and participating in the teasing that I'm sure will ensue for him bringing, gulp, a girl home.

It will be interesting, but the saving grace is that it is for only a night, rather than the seven days in Costa Rica captive in a house with my girls and their "men." It doesn't hurt that I have a pretty good memory for names and faces. I'll be able to relay several items back to him, keeping up the facade that I "remember EVERYTHING" like he already assumes. (Not true, incidentally).

And, there will be a keg of beer on which to blame any mishaps, or Focker-like behavior. There's always that.