Oh what an interesting weekend...
Saturday started innocently enough. It was warm - about 70 degrees - and breezy, and I was in a very good mood. Both of the former states have been rare lately, so this in itself was someone of a miracle.
We played with Elora on the balcony. (Let the pictures below of me trying to play with her illustrate for the thousandth time that Elora clearly loves her daddy more than she loves me).
We even went out to breakfast at the Coffee Station and had a very nice talk. After this we drove around for awhile and enjoyed the weather. At 2:30 or so we both drove into the city. Tim was going to meet the carpet installers and I was supposed to meet a friend at the Hilton.
You see, after several months of having a practically non-existent social life and hiding out in Chadds Ford, someone finally talked me into a date on Saturday night. This would be my friend - Miss S.M. She was driving up from Harrisburg, and we live a bit outside the city now, so we got a hotel and just planned to have some good old girl time.
So, the setting...
Mistake #1: Someday it will be scientifically proven that it is actually impossible for S.M. and I to ever have a low key evening or ever fail to get into as much trouble as possible. In the future, should I decide to break a long period of hermiting, I would be best served to remember this and choose my first date wisely.
Mistake #2: Our realtor left a message on my cell phone just as S.M. and I were heading out to dinner. She wanted to stop in Monday to see the place and start the listing process. So, I (very stupidly) agreed to go by the condo in the morning and finish all of the cleaning and arranging that needed to be done in order to make the place look as nice as possible. When this morning actually did arrive, and I was hating myself - ever so much more than just a little - for each and every dirty martini consumed the night before, and nonetheless had to scrub the floors and fight to get some unidentifyable spilled condiment out of the fridge, the weight of Mistake #2 was fully realized...for 4 hours.
Realization #1: My love language is clearly kicking my own ass.
Realization #2: I am officially too old to even pretend I can party.
With the self-discovery points out of the way, here is a bit more about Saturday and Sunday.
S.M. arrived at the Hilton at around 4:30pm or so. We were both hungry as we had both skipped lunch altogether. This would probably be a good time to explain that our relationship is one of the longest, oldest, most honest, real, confusing, supportive, yet oddly destructive relationships in my life. We have a lot in common and people used to think we were sisters when we were younger. We are both Leos born in the same year; we are generally the center of attention; we can be loud, boisterous, cutting, harsh, and also quiet, sensitive, loving, and caring. We know each other very well despite long periods of being absent from each other's lives. We love each other to death. This being said, it is frequently difficult to tell if we are supporting each other or competing with each other.
So, all this to say that it was absolutely no surprise to me at all that we should both arrive in the same situation to the Hilton after a year's hiatus. Of course we both skipped lunch and were dying for a good meal and a drink. Of course we also both had kind of the same outfit on, so we changed clothes.
A key difference between us should be explained now for effect. S.M. is 6'5" while I am 5'9". So, take the description above and consider the fact that one of us is even more prone to attract attention, and tell me why I thought this would be low key.
Dinner was nice. We had a drink at the bar first and then sat down for our meals. The servers were all friendly and sweet, and we had a nice talk.
S: Where do you want to go next?
K: Hmmm... Can you walk in those shoes OK?
K: OK. Let's go to the Continental. There is a roof deck which is nice. We can get a few drinks there and go somewhere else.
OK - something like 3 hours later we finally managed to leave. Good Lord. We went to the roof deck, got our drinks, eventually found a table. Had more. Talked. At this point in time, everyone else at the bar started getting intoxicated enough to have the guts to come up and ask Sherry how tall she is. This is how it always starts. I'm not exactly sure how many different parties at the bar we ended up talking to, but Mike's birthday party was the first one. I started arguing with him in the bathroom.
Readers: Why was Mike in the bathroom?
K: Because it was one of those hip joints there the men and women share a sink area.
Readers: What did Mike do?
K: Probably nothing but ask S.M how tall she was, and I was tired of having people around me.
It is always interesting to meet people, but I think I just wasn't ready for it. S.M tells me that I wasn't so nice. But the good thing about our friendships is that it is OK if I'm not nice sometimes. She understands.
S: Yeah, you were a bit antagonistic.
K: I guess I can be kind of a b**** sometimes.
K: Have I always been?
S: No. Just when you are defending the people you care about in your life.
The evening ended sanely enough when we escaped that bar and all the crowds and went to another place to just chill out. Well, of course by that time, we had had quite enough to drink, as the bartender observed. I was fine with water, but now it was S.M.'s turn to be antagonistic. He ignored it and let us be. I guess it was a good thing there were not bouncers.
Despite the drama - and there always is drama - it was great to spend the evening with S.M. again. I'm REALLY happy she pulled me out of my hibernation to go see the world again! Friends that are worth putting up with crowds of annoying people and suffering through a pounding head the next day are few and far between. Besides, the girl can't help it...