Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Word to the Sistahs!

Weeeeeeeeelllllll, went out a drankin’ with the lasses last night and what a scurvy lot we were. AYE! Blow the man down (if ye can do it while walkin’ and chewin at the time matey!). Man overboard! Or was that a champagne glass spillin’ it’s dainty contents onto Lady Holly’s skirt?

Siobhan, Holly, Mary, Glenda, Moira, Linda and me. IT WAS SO FUN. We missed ya Hope! There was talk of sex (69, so ‘80’s or still relevant?); cross pollination with scurvy lads at our favorite watering hole, DAN’S CAFÉ; several loud proclamations (you guys are all ASSHOLES!); laughter; gift giving—ba ba ba bling! Topped off by Miss Suzy Q’s generous purchase of a bottle of the Verve to complete the night. And crème brulee and a chocolate explosion thingy and many sloppy heartfelt kisses on the curb of 18th and L as we all melted into the night with our umbrellas and the glow of an evening truly spent with women who take each other in—literally and figuratively—without the bullshit, the competition, the sizing up.

I’ve been so spoiled knowing true women like this—all my life—that when I come up against the usual girlzilla I am always stunned. We are a group of women made up of two sets of lifelong friends, Holly and Susie (Hope in absentia) and Moira and me, two lawyer colleagues, and my Peace Corps comrade.

It was Glenda’s 43rd birthday—viewed in the mirror, object is much smaller: 34! Holly proclaimed that her skin and cleavage were top notch! Impromptu cleavage assessment. Susie was almost a local hero in Ireland—she made the journey and God sent her back to us and we’re overjoyed to have her back. Susie broke my heart when she told me she’d help out with my kids if I applied to the MacDowell Colony. BROKE my heart. Moira and I were back up belly to the bar at the beginning of the night—ECSTATIC with the stolen freedom. CHEERS.

For Christmas we get together every year, no matter what and we always give gifties. This year we’re going to make donations to a charity that we want to support and then say why we did it. We want to start a stock club and then become millionatrixes and star in our own NUDE CALENDAR! The last part was my idea. No one seemed too excited about that. But we’ve got the cleavage girls! Think about it.

Mary shimmered in her baubles, looking every inch the seductive Gibson Girl. We coveted each other’s jewelry—which is all so unique and so reflective of the personalities. Nothing cookie cutter, nothing predictable—proud, asymmetrical, totemic, gaudy, bright, and brilliant pieces. I love y’all. As Jeff Buckley would say, LET’S DRINK and SLEEP! And as E.M. Forster would say: ONLY CONNECT. And we did.

Overheard: ...the Kate Moss vacuum...My monkey is dead!...Your necklace will point him in the right direction...You guys are FUCKING assholes!...You slept with him too?...HOT MONKEY LOVE!


Cynicism is another word for reality

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