Where are all the girlfriends? The ones you tell your secrets to and they never use them against you later. The ones who don't count how many sugar packets you empty into your iced tea. The ones who don't care what time of the night you call and don't yawn and drift off when you make that call. The ones who will tell you the truth when that new blouse you thought looked great on the hanger makes you look 15 pounds over your weight limit, but tell you in a way that doesn't make you run in tears to Jenny Craig. The girls who may not understand why you stay in a relationship (marriage) that isn't perfect and isn't getting any better but remain your friends because they don't judge, just support. I have one such friend, but I used to have several. I don't know what happened, but all of the sudden I notice I talk to my dog more than my friends. I tell him my secrets and I rely on him not to look at me askance when I'm wearing white balloon pants made out of parachute material and a polyester polka dot peasant blouse that is more Halloween costume than style. He doesn't care how much Splenda I pour into my tea, as long as he gets a bite of cheese or a ball-throwing session in the backyard. And he has no suspicion that my marriage isn't perfect. As long as I fill his bowl twice a day and keep his water fresh and ruffle his ears when I pass by, he thinks I'm the greatest thing on earth. I don't aspire to be the greatest thing on earth, but it would be nice to at least be someone who makes a difference.