Well, I’ve finally put that little cutie down long enough to fill-in the none of you that were waiting to hear all about my exploits with Mojo and FabBabs Friday night. I learned some very important lessons that, of course, being the GIVER that I am, I’ll now pass on to you, my darling reader.
Nachos are the greatest food known to humankind.
I’m pretty convinced with the proper nacho makin’s, I’d eat rat-meat. It’s the perfect vehicle for a bevy of delights that are all horrible for you! And everyone knows the badder something is for you, the better it tastes!!!!!! A classic win/win if I’ve ever seen it!
Champagne + Summer = The Crib Keeper staring in Singing in the Rain. Spoiler Alert: My Sweat was playing the part of Rain.
Champagne is a wonderful chaser, but after two glasses, I start sweatin’ like a pig on a spit and FabBab swells like “the Situation’s” ego. Side note: I think “the Situation” looks like a young, buff, Don Knotts. I wish I were kidding.
The summer heat combined with a warm glow champagne already gives me, formed the perfect storm for Seniorita Sweatstache to make an all-evening appearance. I wasn’t just sweating from the champagne, I was SCHVITZING.
FabBab started visibly swelling in her feets after two glasses… she always swells after champagne. Real Talk: I think it had something to do with the fact she chomped down salty Nachos too!
No Kids? No Maturity? No Problem!
As we swilled bubbly and scarfed down perfection on a paper plate, we entered a time machine of sorts…gone were the responsible mothers and wives of our everyday lives (cheesy rhyme and it stays!) The years melted away like the processed cheese that dribbled down our Champagne flutes of crystal. Suddenly, I was loudly proclaiming disgusting, ridiculous notions, that were followed with hours of hysterical laughter, obscenities, screams and real talk. We were still the nutty dames who took over the college town ten summers ago, we just had more to celebrate this time around.
I chugged 7 WHOLE GLASSES of…
As the night progressed, I found myself seriously pounding the ice water. What can I say? If you talk, laugh and scream for 6 straight hours, your throat needs to stay lubricated (get your mind out of the gutter.)
I now have the capacity to enjoy life infinitely more.
The combination of motherhood and winning a major health battle, has changed me for the better. No, not in the sappy Hallmark Card way everyone moons about in television and movies. It’s a very subtle, yet deep, sense of enjoyment and gratitude for every little thing out there. The simple act of uninterrupted conversation with good friends, incites euphoria in me now!
James McEvoy is married and not a homosexual.
Thanks for your help, Google and Wikipedia! (Take that, Mojo!)
My Late night Roaditude (AKA driving attitude) needs work.
Before having a kid, being on the road after midnight meant it was a successful night out, and would most likely end in a drive-thru for some post-club/pub grub (asinine assonance and it stays!)
Now, the mom GENES in me have kicked in. Being on the road past 12am is a deathtrap, a flagrant middle finger in the face of safety and all that is sane. A road that was once sparse with fellow late night revelers, has morphed into a bunch of drunks and murders looking to take me from my family, who was sleeping soundly, while I galavanted on the roads at god-awful hours like a nimrod…see, I told you my post midnight roaditude needs to change! Otherwise, It’s strictly white knuckled night riding from here on out. I can learn to live with the paranoia.
It’s not what you do in nightlife, it’s who’s there by your side, and how hard you laugh that matters.
Sitting flopped out on FabBabs couch with a belly full of nachos and blueberries, heckling Anne Hathaway and James McElvoy in a sad Jane Austen biopic, was pure magic. You can call me Jennifer Grey, ’cause I had the Time of my life!!! (crowd groans)
RIP Johnny Castle!!!!
That’s all I wish for you my dear reader, I wish for you to have people in your life that you genuinely enjoy and love you for the nutty old sweatin’ dock skank you’ll always be.
And if you don’t have friends? You’re looking at one RITE HERE!
* I peed as many times. RIP Ol’ Iron Bladder, gone but not forgotten.