If Rachel Bertsche had started her search for a new best friend in Columbia, I’d have been dying to go on a friend-date with her.

Like Bertsche (who chronicled her year-long search in the book “MWF Seeking BFF”), I’ve lived apart from all of my best friends for a while – this MWF (married white female) had been in Chicago for two years when she began her search, and I’ve lived in Columbia for three. With Facebook, FaceTime, Twitter and texting, I’ve been able to keep in touch with my old BFF, but chatting on the phone when you’re 475 miles apart isn’t the same as chatting over coffee. As Bertsche puts it, “I need someone who lives across the street rather than across the country.”

Bertsche moved to Chicago in 2007 with her then-boyfriend, now-husband. She left her BFFs since middle school behind in New York City. After two years, she still had exactly one new Chicago friend. She had acquaintances there, but no true-blue, tell-them-anything confidantes. When she wrote to an NYC friend who’d recently moved to Portland, she found her friend in a similar predicament.

“I don’t even know where to look,” her friend told her. “My yoga studio is filled with women, but how do you strike up a conversation? In the locker room when you’re naked?”

In the book, Bertsche sets out on a year-long quest to find herself a new best friend, one friend-date at a time. Her story takes you from her awkward first friend-date (“When she gets here, do we hug? Or handshake?”) to her online want-ad essay to her experiences with professional friend-finding services. She talks about the different groups she joined as part of her effort — yoga, cooking classes, improv classes at The Second City comedy club and two different book clubs. Throughout the book, Bertsche comes across as so intelligently funny and honest I can’t help but wish I lived in Chicago — I’ll join her book clubs! I’ll be her friend!

Bertsche’s book reads like the story of my last three years. I moved here with an ex and his friends — when we split, so did they. I never had the convenient, built-in “we live on the same floor so we’re besties now!” type of friends because I never lived in a residence hall. My mom had a rental house here, and I wanted to keep my cat with me, so I opted out of that particular college experience. As much as I love where I live, I sometimes regret not going through a year with little closet space and less book space. I’d probably have found my own BFF by now if I had. My boyfriend is amazing, and we can spend hours talking, watching movies, reading or just hanging out, but there are some things for which you just need a female friend (shopping comes to mind). Bertsche’s book describes perfectly just how hard it can be to find new friends as an adult.

When Bertsche began her search, she was nervous. She didn’t want to come off as some freak, desperately searching for friends — when you say you’re actively looking for new friends, people look at you like there’s something wrong with you (why don’t you already have some?). As she put it, “I was scared that women would think I was hitting on them or that I was a pathetic loser not worth their time.” She wasn’t even sure if women her age were interested in adding new friends. By the end of the book (and her search), she had made 22 new friends and come to the conclusion that most people out there are nice and open to friendly advances as long as you give them a chance.

“As it turns out, everyone likes friends,” she writes. “Not everyone is willing—or motivated—to do the work it takes to make them, but they’re not put off by your desire to hang out. They’re flattered.”

As a SWF (single white female) seeking my own BFF, I hope she’s right.