it was quite a weekend. i took my friend's hair on a date, lost my cool at the patagonia store, and missed a road race... oh yeah, and watched lots of basketball.
just i was getting myself comfortably curled up on the couch on friday night, finally ready to watch the last episodes of sex and the city, ending the crack-TV siege, little miss twin set called to announce that after 2 hours and $200 she wasn't wasting her cute, bouncy haircut at home with her husband- apparently he too was comfortably curled up on the couch. so i did what any self-respecting friend-of-married-girl would do- hopped in the shower, drank a beer, and pulled on my sassygoingout boots. she showed up (2 hours and $200 later) a little punchy having split a bottle of wine with her hair dresser, ready to be shown a good time. i think i was a pretty good date- we drank an excessive number of mojitos and waited an excessively long time for a table at an excessively trendy restaurant. afterwards, being the perfect gentleman that i am, i put my tipsy friend and her hair in a cab and sent them home to her hubby.
i spent the next day out and about with my friend (gwcbwdbsbhhwtt for those of you paying attention) and her brother. he had a gift certificate to spend at the patagonia store, so after wandering around the art supply store wishing i was artistic, i wandered around patagonia wishing i was out-doorsy. perhaps if i actually was out-doorsy i wouldn't have been so snide in supplying mr. everest base camp with the word for which he searching ("technology") but as he rambled on about the high-tech, windproof, fire-proof, NASA-quality fleece i found it harder and harder to keep it together. when he started to pitch the sonically-guided seams i lost all composure and started laughing uncontrollably. i had to sit down in the adirondak chair (supplied so that weary shoppers could watch a movie about banff) just to catch my breath. though none of the patagonia employees seemed particularly appreciative of my amusement, they were fortuitously distracted, moments later, by a dramatic fender-bender in the parking lot. i think somebody rear-ended mr. base camp's jeep.
the next morning i found myself pacing around on the corner of belmont and clark at what i thought was 8AM, waiting for friend#1. when she hadn't appeared 15 minutes later i ran to the el to meet friend#2 in an attempt to keep the whole plan from disintegrating. but i was too late. i raced up the stairs to find friend#2 taking on his cell phone to friend#1 who was the only one of us to have remembered the time change. "hi," he said, "what time do you think it is?" while friend#1 actually made it downtown in time to run in chicago's big spring 8K, we were holding all the race packets. after all that fretting about my lack of preparedness and gimp-footedness we missed it completely! determined to maintain our fragile dignity, we ran our own private 8K race on the lake and went to the post-race party as if nothing had happened. i blame the final four- surely if we hadn't all three been glued to our bar-stools yesterday watching michigan state get clobbered, one of us might have anticipated this.
go illini!
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2 comments:
*sigh*
it's not a twin set, it's a sweater and camisole... but i suppose little miss sweater and camisole doesn't have as nice of a ring to it. you really are the perfect gentleman. :)
Little Miss Twinset Fights Back:
Now, once and for all, let's get this straight. I have retired the twinsets. Yes, it is true. I arrived to this good city thoroughly "Connecticut". Like any respectable mid 20s married CT girl, I had a healthy number of polo golf shirts, kakhis, twinsets and, of course, I full set of my own golf clubs.
BUT... Times have changed. Yes, the changes may be subtle, but they are there.
1. Notice, my hair now has layers. I even got it cut three times by a perfectly stoned, fully punked out chick with more piercings and tatoos than any body should endure.
2. There is a lace cami under the cardigan sweater.
3. Let's not forget the colorful language that you have all been privy to. Please, I'm a sailor sometimes! Would you catch a little miss twinset cursing "I've been @#%$ed *) the @##" in public?
4. And, lastly, the driving. I mean, I can be an outright menace. (As some of you like to allude to in front of my husband :)
5. I may even give this thong thing another try. (Don't worry, I am sure that you and the rest of Chicago will hear plenty about it when it fails again.)
So, lmts I am not.
PS. Thanks for taking out my hair. It was exactly what I needed :)
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