One of my favorite books when I was a kid was Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman. For those of you who have forgotten (how could you?), the book is about a newborn bird's quest to find his mother, who jumped nest right after his birth in search of food. He goes off into the world to find her, despite the fact that he never got a glimpse of her and therefore, doesn't know what she looks like. So when he meets up with a cat, a hen, a dog, and various forms of transportation, he always has to ask, "Are you my mother?".

You may be wondering what this has to do with me. No, I'm not looking for my mother. But I am doing some hunting around for friends. The question I am most often asked (after, "Do you have a bike?") is, "Have you made any friends?". Like the baby bird in the story, since I don't know exactly who or what I am looking for, the question hangs in the air when I meet a person: "Are you my friend?". As my loyal blog readers know, I mostly spent the first two months here with my dog Casey. Like any good friend, he was always up for an adventure. We have a lot in common: we both like to eat, we both like to take long walks, and we both have sensitive noses. He laughs at all of my jokes.

My other close friends since moving to Amsterdam have been books. I've read twenty of them since arriving four months ago. And although it is certainly true that books keep you from feeling alone, there did come a time two months or so into my Amsterdam life when I needed more than just my books and my dog. A girl, even an often introverted one, can only take so much alone time before she needs to get out there. As Graham Greene wrote in The Human Factor, one of my twenty friends -oh, I mean books, "One needs a friend badly to make a new life in a new country."

Here are some of the close friends that came with me from Maplewood. Like Casey, they don't ever cancel plans at the last minute.

So, the question is: how does a grown-up make new friends? Finding new friends may be particularly hard in this age of social media, when your "old" friends can seem so close. There were a few other junctures in my life when I had to thrust myself forward and find new friends: when I left my neighborhood school in Trenton, N.J. for the waspy wilds of Princeton Day School, freshman year of college, during my two year post-college journey to San Francisco, and when I moved to Maplewood. The move to Maplewood was over twenty years ago, so I found myself a little out of shape in the sport of finding friends. Nevertheless, in the words of the Dixie Chicks, I decided it was time to step out.

Enter the American Women's Club and The International Women's Club. To set the record straight: I am not a joiner. The idea of joining a club here seemed forced, frightening, and desperate. I buoyed myself by remembering that when I left the world of full-time outside-the-home work, I joined a local organization then called F.E.M.A.L.E. (Formerly Employed Mothers At The Leading Edge). Not to worry: I, too, am laughing at that acronym. Yet that mouthful of an organization gave me both a wonderful playgroup and a beloved book group, both of which led me to some of my closest Maplewood friendships. So I swallowed my club fear and signed up for both groups. My biggest fear was that I would mostly meet young moms with babies or toddlers, and that I would be forced to smile pleasantly during talk of first steps and potty triumphs.

Instead, I have met some really terrific and interesting women from all corners of the globe. At the first International Women's Club event - a lecture by a former director of the Frans Hals museum about Frans Hals, a V.I.P in the world of Dutch painters - I joined a table of women for lunch that included a cardiologist from Serbia, a designer from Denmark, and women from South Africa, Suriname, Scotland, England, and the U.S. Most were either my age, or even slightly older. There was no potty talk. Interestingly, many of these women moved frequently, both in childhood, and now as adults. They speak several languages. I am one of the few for whom Amsterdam is the first ex-pat experience.

Kathy, the woman seated center left with the orange sweater, lived in Maplewood fifteen years ago, on Kensington Terrace. That is one block from where I lived. That gives new meaning to the term small world. — Kathy, the woman seated center left with the orange sweater, lived in Maplewood fifteen years ago, on Kensington Terrace. That is one block from where I lived. That gives new meaning to the term *small world*.

Speaking of small worlds, Darlene, the woman in black on the left with the pearls taught chemistry at Oak Knoll, in Summit, and knew the daughter of dear friends from South Orange. By the way, I am really enjoying the opportunity to eat lunch w… — Speaking of small worlds, Darlene, the woman in black on the left with the pearls taught chemistry at Oak Knoll, in Summit, and knew the daughter of dear friends from South Orange. By the way, I am really enjoying the opportunity to eat lunch with other grownups. Lunchtime for teachers is not one bit relaxing. I am making up for lost time.

Just like in my new mom days in Maplewood, I am trying to find the friends lurking in these big groups. One of my biggest quests is to find a book group here. I am still religiously reading the books my Maplewood group reads, checking in with them to see how the group reacted to this or that title. I can't let them go. But I did make my way to the American Women's Club group last week. There were only three of us. The book was just O.K. But it was a first step. We spent a lot of the time talking about the recent events in Paris (this month's host is originally from France). I could hear Pamela's voice (from my Maplewood group) gently bringing us back to a discussion about the book. I didn't want to sound like Muffy, from the cartoon Arthur, who was always reminding everyone about how things went down "at my old school...". So rather than compare, I just remembered that this group might need a little bit of time to find its groove. I chose the title for the next meeting, borrowing one of the upcoming titles from my "old" group. The book? My Brilliant Friend, by Elena Ferrante.

This is Laura, who is originally from Brooklyn, but who lived in Italy for ten years before coming to Amsterdam. She can't even ride the tram because like any good New Yorker, she hates to wait. Definitely in the running for a friend. — This is Laura, who is originally from Brooklyn, but who lived in Italy for ten years before coming to Amsterdam. She can't even ride the tram because like any good New Yorker, she hates to wait. Definitely in the running for a friend.

Darlene is a chemistry teacher from Wisconsin, who has lived in Mendham, N.J. and Switzerland. Two kids in college. No potty talk. Super smart, loves to read, likes spinning. Strong candidate for moving into the friend category. — Darlene is a chemistry teacher from Wisconsin, who has lived in Mendham, N.J. and Switzerland. Two kids in college. No potty talk. Super smart, loves to read, likes spinning. Strong candidate for moving into the friend category.

Rebecca convinced me to join her gym, and treated me to a smoothie this week after a workout. She is in the International Women's Group walking and film clubs with me. And she loves to read. All strong ingredients for an Amsterdam friend, don't… — Rebecca convinced me to join her gym, and treated me to a smoothie this week after a workout. She is in the International Women's Group walking and film clubs with me. And she loves to read. All strong ingredients for an Amsterdam friend, don't you think? Plus there's the British accent, which I could listen to all day.

We don't just eat lunch or go out for coffee, although it may look that way. Both clubs have museum groups, which get you out there going to museums when you might otherwise stay at home. They even organize field trips outside the city. I went to The Hague via train, and in February will go to Utrecht to see a castle. It's so nice to go on a field trip when you don't have the responsibility for 20+ young lives. There is a group for people who are artistic or crafty. That's not me, but I joined in anyway, and as a result, am back to knitting after a million years of being away from it. I may even finish the sweater I'm working on by the time we move back.

Even Casey is looking for friends. This lookalike was only visiting from Switzerland. Who knew that dogs can be expats?

So, all in all, I am starting to put myself out there in the friendship meeting world. You can't help but notice that expats who have moved around every few years have a different attitude towards friendship. Maybe a person isn't a match on paper, but if she likes coffee, tea, or wine, is up for wandering around, and is interesting to talk to, then she's a friend. Unlike those ever-rolling expats, I have lived more like a stone. I have mostly stayed put and the friends I have collected over the years I have held onto. Interestingly, in our Dutch culture class, we learned that the Dutch don't throw out the term friend lightly. They tend to have fewer friends, and they don't call any old acquaintance a friend, the way they perceive Americans do.

I realize now that you are never done finding new friends. My eighty year old mom recently moved to a retirement community, and finds herself having to flex those friendship muscles once again. If she can do it, I can do it. And finding new friends here doesn't mean I have to give up any space in the friendship circle already occupied by my U.S. friends. It just means that soon, I'll have friends who, unlike my books, can actually talk to me. Unlike Casey, they may not always think I am the most amazing creature in the world. I'll keep you posted on how the search for enduring friendships goes. Last weekend, we had dinner with Tracy and Phil from California. Next weekend we'll host, Rebecca and Andrew from England who came here after twenty years of living in France, along with Darlene and Rob, the Mendham N.J. folks who came via Switzerland. As Marvin Gaye preached in the greatest song of all time, "No more standing on the side of the wall. Well, I've got myself together baby, and I'm having a ball." My friend Sabrina and I used to sit outside parties in high school just waiting for this song to play on the radio (in those oh so long ago days before playlists), to give us the swagger to go have a good time. Good advice still, Marvin!