Except, it can never be that simple. Spending time with those girls is like spotting Barack Obama in a coffee shop and sitting down with him for a minute to shoot the shit and the entire time you're in your own head going, "OMGOMGOMGBARACKOBAMA" but trying to appear all cool and the second he leaves you literally stand up and scream out so that everyone in Starbucks is staring at you because it was just that thrilling and you'll never forget that moment ever in your entire life ever, ever.
That is what spending time with my girls is like.
So like all posts, lets start at the beginning.
Kelley got in super late on Thursday evening and while the hole in the wall bar she had us meet at was awesome to a point the real fun did not begin until Friday when Beth and I drove up to Clarkston to spend the night with her. We made margi's. Ordered pizza. Drank the margi's. Nom'ed the pizza. PLAYED TWILIGHT THE GAME AGAIN. In case you were wondering, no matter who you play that game with, it will always be fucking ridiculous. As Beth soon discovered:
Long, terrible, excruciatingly terrible story later Kelley cheated her way to victory:
and we called it a night.
The next morning after a fantabulous breakfast made by her daddy, we went home to rest up for round two. Hey, here's a fun fact! I got a haircut!
Please enjoy the sleeky, smoothness that is this coif because it will never look this way again. I have no freaking clue how to use a roundbrush and all you ladies out there who understand my problems with the blowdryer/brush in both hands while styling a masterpiece at the same time, holla at your girl because trust me I FEEL YOUR PAIN and have since looked like a little Asian boy with shaggy hair since this picture was taken. It's a learning process, let's hope when I get students in a few weeks they will find it in themselves to call me Ms. Earp even though I clearly resemble more of a Mr. Kim.
For evening round two we went to Royal Oak and had Margi's again! And Mexican food! We traipsed it up to Woody's with Matt and Mark and got good and drunk, rounded the evening off with a trip to a bakery where we ingested cookies like cyclones in Kansas and fell asleep promptly on Beth's floor. Oh, excuse me. For some reason I was feeling all "The floor with this awesome little yoga mat will be perfect" and the girls were, very hesitantly all "uh, ashley, are you sure?" and I'm all "yeah yeah it's great" and then slept not at all while Beth's cat loomed over me from her bed and stared until I had convinced myself when my eyes closed she was going to come over and suck my brains out of my nose. The Damned Cats can do that, you
know. Also, I'd like to introduce you to that which is Ashley's Drunk Paranoia.
But really, the whole point of the weekend was before all of this drunken happiness even occured. Saturday at exactly 4:45 pm we sat side by side with Diet Cokes and candy in hand (kelley spilled about sixteen pounds of Mike and Ike's EVERYWHERE BEFORE IT EVEN BEGAN, but, I digress...) and watched the one and only movie we've been waiting for since it was a sparkle in Brad and Jen's eye.
The Time Traveler's Wife. And every moment of Eric Bana's bare ass was totally worth the wait. Seriously, the man at any age is a heart breaker. I'm contemplating renting the attrocity that is Troy again and watching it tomorrow strictly because my new found crush on him has left me dreaming in mesh. He's wearing golden armor and suddenly disappearing bare assed into the night. Fighting with his punk ass brother, convincing his six year old wife he really can travel to the future. It's confusing and yet erotic. I need a better handle on that is Eric Bana and yes I mean that kind of handle. HA. Get it?
Seriously though, the man is smoking. Moving on.
Because we are who we are, the weekend ended epically. Beth did the impossible, at least, impossible in that I have NEVER ever succeeded in doing what she did today effortlessly. Please observe:
I miss them already. I was grouchy the second Kelley dumped me off in my driveway after a rousing car ride of Mama Mia soundtrack singing and have been sour ever since. Coming off 'Girl Time High', I'm pretty sure, should constitute some time in rehab but whatever. I'll just take my aggression out on some unsuspecting eight year old during dodgeball tomorrow. I love you girls. I miss you like crazy even though we talk four or five times a week about absolutely nothing. Lovelovelove.
