We sat around the table, chatting. Our latest career news, our latest boy news, our latest bikini wax story.

Just four ladies talking over dinner. But we were there, in person, to share about our lives.

It meant a great deal to me. friends_table_104593_tns

In the flurry of my irritating work schedule and several fun trips lately, plus this blog, my freelance job and spending time with my boyfriend, I find that finding time for my femme fatales is becoming fastidious.

This blog, once about single life, is now about relationships, because I am in a serious one, and he’s the love of my life.

While our relationships with our significant others are important, to me, staying in touch with your good girlfriends ranks equally high.

But as my friends and I all find ourselves, our loves and our lives, we tend to not talk as often. I used to work with some of them, and that’s changing, so I don’t see them often. We live in different parts of the Triangle and work different hours.

I start to feel disconnected.

I often refer to “smurfing it,” which is to say I’m the only girl hanging out with a group of guys. My “let’s go get a drink after work” friends are men, including my boyfriend. I love hanging out with them. They’re fun, geeky, and I learn all sorts of intriguing things about men – i.e. they’re real people searching for love and happiness like the rest of us.

But I can’t exactly discuss bikini waxing with them. Well, I can, and I have, but it’s just not the same.

So as we ladies sat there, just catching up, it struck me — how sad it is that we don’t stay in touch as well. Even with Facebook, Twitter, gchat. The plan is to make these dinners a monthly event, and I hope that happens.

Because sometimes you just need to complain about how painful a bikini wax really was.