It's been a rough year so far, to say the very least. Lately I've felt the need for some space. I need to breathe. And think. And breathe some more. I've been craving the kind of space that has a lot of sun, blue sky, a pool and three of my best girlfriends. I just want to
I grew up in Arizona, and being away from it for 19-ish years now, makes it quite special to me. Every. time. A lot of people close to my heart still live there, so it's easy to feel like I'm a little bit home when I'm there, too.
Last week, I met up with three of my best girlfriends for the third year in a row (thank you Facebook). In 2009 we gave this girlfriend getaway a whirl, and declared it a newfound tradition that is at the tip top of our "Must Have" lists (next to lip gloss and flushable wipes).
Once we got over the initial euphoria of being together again, we gladly assumed our positions (sprawled out over the kitchen counter eating chocolate cake), hunkered down for three days and two nights together (special thanks to their kiddos for letting me have them all to myself--and first choice of the room with the bunk bed). As we moved from furniture piece to furniture piece, room to room, the conversation ebbed and flowed with stories of where our lives had taken us "since the last time". We took turns laughing and crying--literally toning muscles we forgot existed. We are rocking the Cheeks of Steel right now. I may have said, "I'm blogging this" about 157 times. I even took notes.
"Ghetto Housewives" (that is SO us)
"I can't believe people still smoke." (said by one-O-my girls, we will call her The Feisty One--and seriously people--STOP.IT. I want you to live.)
Staying "regular" on the girlfriend getaway. (for *some* of us this is an issue and the conversation may have come up several times, proving that we are 38)
Mom suits vs. the bikini (more to come on this observation, darn it)
10:00 p.m. Pajama Time on the first night of the girlfriend getaway (WHAT? Further proof that we are 38. Even more of a big dealie-O when Beautiful Neighbor--also 38-ish--came over and told us about her--just the heck happened--Vegas escapades that were very escapade-ey--you go girl--and how she only slept an hour and a half in three days. That's a little bit awesome, but also makes me want to go to sleep right this second. Because I'm 38.)
"I don't wanna throw up." (enough said right there)
"I don't wanna go to jail." (good idea)
"We didn't pay our bill, officer." (i'm gonna let you wonder about that one, mmmmkkkk?)
Do you sense a girlfriend getaway theme here? Let's just say our intentions were real good. Garage fridge full of Coronas and Mirror Pond. Don't tell anyone that the total amount of beer consumed out of the garage fridge by four
We managed to (make ourselves) go out on night two to a hot spot, called The Sandbar. We arrived at 6:30 p.m., ordered a round of margaritas and by 6:50 p.m. (it was then necessary to order our next round before Happy Hour ended at 7:00 p.m.), we were good.to.go. The margaritas were delicious and strong. Like so strong Noted. Next we ordered chips and queso and a lot of delicious fish tacos and didn't leave that joint for seven hours. Seven. What? We had a really good table. When we got our bill our poor waitress had to come back three times whilst we figured that sucker out. Let it also be noted that none of us on the girlfriend getaway are mathematicians--What is wrong with us?!
Next day (minus throwing up and jail, but plus more cake), we saw Bridesmaids, which is THE PERFECT girlfriend getaway movie. Put it on your list right now. Right now. Look Away!
Oh, these girls. These girls keep my 38-year-old self grounded with encouragement, laughter and chocolate cake. They are so good at this. I am just nothing but grateful.
Next up... I will discuss my observation of mom suits vs. bikinis, darn it. I know, TOTAL cliffhanger.