So forgive me, please, as it's been a bit since I was last on here (yeah, just pretend you noticed, it's good for my ego). We made a crazy trip to Idaho to see my middle daughter, Sadie, who decided to pepper our dull lives with a removal of her kidney and follow up chemo and radiation therapy. Just when you think you have the hang of this whole life thing, wham-bam, thank you ma'am, a wrench gets thrown in it and you have to just go with the flow. It was of course, wonderful to see everyone we love and miss on a daily basis, even in the midst of worries and surgeries, etc. All my friend's kids have grown another foot and while I did get some cute photos, the majority of the time I left my camera in my diaper bag where I always had it and yet somehow in my old age, managed to still not remember to not forget to take lots of pictures. I still don't know how and when I went from teenager to Gen X-er to now, a thirty-something with gray hair and sore muscles and a failing memory. Anyway. Our trip itself was naturally not completely uneventful, but thankfully not AS eventful as prior journeys. Boise had lovely weather for us: shorts and tank tops and flipflops and sunburns that nicely turned a spiffy shade of bronze for us, campfires at the High House with hot dogs and a sandbox that Gianni enjoyed like no one's business, blooming trees and budding flowers. Heck, I think there were even Disney animated squirrels and birds and mice running around singing happy songs. Then, sigh, we crossed back into Wyoming. The land that spring forgot. Fog and blowing snow and rain and grayness and barren landscapes with nothing but tumbleweeds and antelope, who neither dress themselves in jaunty little outfits nor sing happy songs. But in spite of that welcome, it is nice to be home where we have more than 3 shirts and 5 pairs of underwear to rotate through before we have to borrow someone's washer and dryer. We had a great trip but I figured I would keep this post simple and write about one particular evening last week. Disclaimer: this is totally not about me and my friends. It's just a funny story told to me by...a friend. A friend with friends who are so not as cool as me and my friends. We did much cooler things all week long, oh yes indeedy.
Ladie's Night! Margeritas! Except ours, uh, I meant to say, theirs were spelling correctly. No kids! No hubbies! Freedom! It went to these ladies heads. So much freedom they were at a loss to know what to do with themselves. Literally. At a loss. Much time was spent talking about what to do while rotating drinks around the table (too icy, too sweet, too tequila-y, not enough tequila, wrong flavor, dropped salsa in this one, yadda yadda). Ladies decide to see a movie. One not rated G and animated. Movie doesn't start for another hour and a half. Ladies don't know what to do with themselves. Liquor store already closed (hey, there's an advantage in Wyoming!) Ladies huddled together in minivan. Obviously this story isn't about me; we'd be huddled in something cooler, like a Hummer. Ladies go to grocery store and buy mini margeritas and tiny bottles of wine. Ladies park in theater parking lot and hope tinted windows hide their shameful open containers. Ladies get slightly buzzed and giggle like school girls. Mall security is only a few cars away! Ladies get nervous like the good church goers they are, but can't stop laughing. Sadistic lady in front seat pushes the window button and scares the living daylights out of lady in back seat, who thought for a minute the security guys were scaling the car. More giggling. Diaper bags come in handy for sneaking in more mini margeritas and wine into theater. Ticket taker looks at ladies like they are insane. Or drunk. Ladies play it cool. Suave. Walk in straight (ish) line to see movie, which is rated a whole PG-13. Ladies not brave enough to actually drink anymore in the theater, especially lady on the end who is afraid the rest will bail on her if security guard, all 11 years and 88 pounds of him, approaches them. Ladies sober up by end of movie (is it because enough time went by or is it because they all had the thought that Zac Efron would be more interested in their daughters than he would be them? No one knows for sure) and go home to babies and husbands who ask, 'How was your time, honey?' and ladies all reply, 'Fun, dear. Bible study is always fun.'
Good times. For my friend. Should she write a blog, her story would be soooo not worth blogging about. We who blog have much more sensational tidbits to write about, don'tcha know.