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“There are special angels for children and drunks."

Issue Date: Monday, Feb. 28, 2005

Good afternoon poppets. I trust everyone is in the midst of a lovely Monday? The weather here is perfect, if not a bit cool, which I do prefer. This morning it was around 47 degrees and a little brisk. Perfect for a sweater and some flat front tan trousers and my Pliner mules. But I know that in a few weeks the sun will be baking the thoughts of every single thing but, “Shit it’s hot.” from my sweating brow.

I really enjoyed my weekend too, even though it was dreary and rainy. I got the bestest gift. One of my girlfriends was in town from Chicago visiting her parents for a while and two other girlfriends from Houston came up for the weekend (these are all esteemed YaYas) and we all got to hang out on Saturday.

It was awesome.

I got to meet the Chicago girlfriend’s new baby (new baby… yes, that is redundant, shut it.) who is absolutely stunning. Such a beautiful child, such amazing eyes… and her skin… Ya’ll… I wanted to chew on her. And these little knee dimples! I melted. I’ll see if my girlfriend will let me link to her family website so ya’ll can view this little piece of exquisite beauty for yourselves. Chicago girlfriend is a beauty as well, a tall Filipino woman from Rusk, TX living in Chicago with a southern accent… what an enigma! Love it.

We had the best time going to lunch early Saturday afternoon at this little Mexican dive restaurant south of Dallas and then we just hung out at Chicago girlfriend’s (oh hell, I can’t keep calling her Chicago girlfriend… I call her Sil… sounds like “seal”)… so we all hung out at Sil’s parent’s house on their awesome leather furniture for hours talking and getting caught up on what’s been going on in all of our lives. The other two from Houston were Jen and Jo.

We all knew each other from college. So, really, since the time of the great flood if you are playing the home game, and coincidentally… thanks for playing along.

Jen just had some recent relationship woes so that was the discussion topic of a better part of the afternoon because Jen is a psychotherapist… also read, smart as a whip and twice as witty, with really great hair. And Jo is normally the quiet one (also our resident crafty Martha Stewart). But if you are in a large group, sit next to her. She doesn’t say much, but when she does, you will be rolling around in your Cheerio’s laughing and wiping tears from your eyes and no one else will of heard a word she said. She’s quiet… and funny, that Jo. Oh, and borrow her lipstick. It’s pretty.

I love these ladies. Love them.

We got ready around six and went to meet a friend of Jen’s named Carol. Everyone else knew her pretty well except me. Sweet lady, awesome accessories. I almost tackled her and swiped her purse. Oh, and can I mention her skin? Hello? Peaches and cream.

We met up at Humperdinks’ in Addison for beer. We ordered a round and an appetizer to share and by the time the cheese fries were delivered we had already begun a raucous discussion about the shit we thought was a secret when we lived in East Texas. Who slept with whom, who was a raging slut (answer: all of us), who was drunk for basically three years straight, who called whom a fucking bitch (yeah, we all hated that girl too Jen), what happened to that eighteen thousand dollars anyway?, who saved my life (thank you Sil)… and on and on and on.

We decided that verily verily I say unto you… the man upstairs was looking out for our little band of outlaws.

The sheer terror that Sil had in her voice when she said, “If I did all of that, I can’t even begin to imagine what [daughter] will do when she goes to college.”

Jen hit the nail on the head when she replied, “There are special angels for children and drunks Sil.”

And I added, “And sluts.”

I am sure we really weren’t as bad as I make us out to be. But for a period of a few years we were all pretty cavalier with our attitudes and our reputations.

I am so glad we have grown up to be the women that we are.

Cheers ladies.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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