Old friends are the best friends

This past weekend was girls weekend for me and eight of my sorority sisters from college.  We all lived in the house our senior year and became life long friends.  Approximately once a year since we graduated we have gotten together--for weddings, baby showers, opportunities to see the Sex and the City movies, but this was the first time we ever had a "destination" girls weekend.  Which means, basically, this is the first time that husbands and kids have been left behind completely. 

Now let me say that those of us who are married with kids love our families.  And our husbands all get along famously and have mancrushes on one another.  And our kids get along.  It's just when we all get together with our husbands and our kids, it is loud.  And not so welcoming to the girls who don't have husbands and instant birth control for those without kids.  9 kids under the age of 5 is really freakin' loud.  Particularly when they are mainly girls.  And, as I've noted before, little girls when they get together click clack around in plastic princess high heels and shriek. 
So when C suggested a destination weekend, we all jumped at the chance.  I offered up my parents' 2 beach condos in Litchfield, SC and all but two of the group signed on for the weekend.  At first, I was a little sad to be leaving my crew.  I'm not one of those women who jumps at the chance to get away with the girls.  Sloan is my best friend.  I like him better than anyone else on the planet by a long shot.  (No offense, friends.)

But....there's just something different about a weekend with the girls with no husbands and no kids.  Skinny girl margaritas can flow in the afternoon.  You can watch the royal wedding in its entirety.  You can totally make fun of that hat Posh Spice wore on her forehead with the same girls you used to shake your groove thing with in Cancun to the Spice Girls' "If You Wanna Be My Lover."  A zigga zigga aaaahhhh.  You can loll about in your pjs, eat cheetos for lunch, and just chat and drink and eat.  And laugh until you pee in your pants.  More than once.  We had two pregnant girls with us, so there really was no hope for them.

In some ways, it was just like old times--we packed up a cooler and headed for the beach.  Just this time, we filled the cooler with fruit and bottled water and dug holes for the pregnant ladies bellies rather than to hold our beers.  We hit a great resteraunt for happy hour, appetizers, and dinner.  We just arrived at 4:45 and the waitress asked us if we were wanting to order lunch.  (Um, no.  We're just wired to have lunch at 11:30 so dinner HAS to come around 5:30).  And of course, there was a raging after dinner party.  It just ended around 11. 

Laughing until you snort and pee is just good for the soul.  It reminds you that you are fun.  That you don't always have to eat your vegetables.  That 3pm isn't too early for a peach daiquiri with fresh slices of strawberries stirred in.  That you have another name besides Mommy.  And that old friends are just the best.  The remember when you ran down North street naked and love you anyways.  They knew you when you were your skinniest and think you are more lovely now.