I’m sitting here very impatiently waiting for a certain BFF of mine to come over. She started her new job today and will be staying the week with me until she moves here officially on April 7th. She, my friend Junkie (who now lives in Seattle) and I used to spend several nights a week together when our kids were babies. Our lives have changed a lot since then, and none of us have lived in the same town in about 6 years. Junkie went and moved to Seattle until I can find her a job here (right, Junkie?) but Stace is moving a couple of miles down the road from me. And all we need now is a bottle of Boone’s Farm, a carton of cigarettes, and some Dead playing in the background – and it will be like old times.
This week, however, it’s going to be slumber party every night! I’m totally having to resist the urge to break out the nail polish and I am trying to remind myself that we’re not nine and that she probably would rather do more grown-up things tonight. Like drink copious amounts of alcohol and watch Dancing with the Stars. A show she will grow to love. If I have anything to say about it.
Either way – I’m taking bets on how long it will be before she regrets moving here. And what will it be that pushes her over the edge? Will it be the frequent phone calls from me saying, “Help! I need someone to pick up my kids from school!” Or maybe my perpetual presence at her apartment with the pool? Or will it possibly be the constant “coincidence” that occurs every night my family shows up at her door just about dinner time? (Did I mention she actually cooks? How did I not learn from her?) I’m betting the final straw of her tolerance will be the 18th time I spill something on her carpet. I’m thinking she’s forgotten how much destruction a klutz like me can cause on a person’s home.
Hurry up, Stacey! I’ve got the latest copy of Teen Beat for us to drool over! I hear Bon Jovi is making a comeback.