Well, I think Polly, Bookgirl and I proved we can still party like we're rock stars this weekend. I haven't seen Polly knock back that much Tequila in a while. Maybe it's because she lives so close to Mexico now. It could be seeping into the ground water. The woman has quite a tolerance. Night and day compared to last time she was here and we had to bring her home early. This time she was fully fortified with a nap before going out. and Tequila once she got there. A red eye and three hour time zone change can seriously drag you down. And frankly, no one should look that good twelve hours after a red eye. She was all decked out old school in her chucks too. So cute.
I, myself, am not a big fan of going out on Friday nights. Friday is generally movie night at our house. And the past work week was quite a stressful one, tipped off by a killer Friday. I was still on the adrenaline rush when I got out of work. And before I could start crashing too hard, I started the night off with a Red Bull and vodka. Not generally my drink of choice, kinda sweet for my taste. But it certainly does the trick in a pinch. That or an espresso martini. My parents' bar isn't exactly the martini place, though.
And Bookgirl looks terrific! She did amazingly well sticking to her meal plan under the duress of a weekend filled with partying and drinking. She didn't even eat any birthday cake at Polly's cousin's wedding. The wedding I sort of crashed. I wasn't technically invited, and Bookgirl was Polly's date. I was more an approved tag-a-long. I showed up after dinner. They didn't have to feed me. The wedding couple was so cute! About the same age Blackstone and I were when we got married. So young . . . . We hit our tenth anniversary in a couple of weeks. After our wedding, at around two o'clock in the morning, Polly and Bookgirl were sitting with us at our kitchen table eating the top of the wedding cake. Honestly, Bookgirl. No wedding cake. That's impressive.
We met up with an old friend we hadn't seen in years who is a tattoo artist now. Partied with my sister and her best friend. Danced until late into the night, and then continued the party at my parents' hot tub. And that was only round one. We danced our feet into oblivion again at Polly's most-adored-cousin's wedding, and then landed ourselves back in the hot tub. At least until the violent thunderstorm kicked us out. And we brought one of Polly's cousins with us. Not the newly married one, a different one. One we partied with more than a decade ago on another very memorable night.
She had just turned twenty-one then, and we had crashed another of Polly's cousin's weddings. (Girlfriend has a lot of cousins.) We went clubbing in Providence. And thank heavens Blackstone was with us. The little twig of twenty-one-year-old passed out while walking down the stairs at the Complex. If Blackstone hadn't managed to catch her, it could have been seriously bad. On the drive back to our apartment, Polly and her cousin made him pull over on 95 so they could pee. Not only did he have to pull over on the highway, he had to half carry both of them drunk down the embankment and hold them up while they peed. And up the stairs to our apartment when he got there. That husband of mine, he's truly something.
Twiggy wanted to know if I was still with the same guy, the one who gives the really good back rubs. You bet I am! You don't let the one who gives the fantastic back rubs get away. Mama didn't raise no fool!
And Bookgirl made me breakfast. I heart you. I couldn't tell you the last time someone made me breakfast.
Oh, and long live the HBP ladies ; )