The Girly Glam Slumber Party Fiesta of 2007 was a blast, and it felt so good to do something that wasn’t reeking of DAILY ROUTINE and mundane-ness. We stopped at a little Hillbilly Cafe on the way up there to eat dinner and it was… very… provincial… very rustic. I had me sum chikin fryed steak after I was told that the fried chicken would take 30 minutes to cook by the very unenthusiastic waitress. (Who, by the way, looked like maybe she had just taken a dunk in the deep fryer herself. Greeeazy.)
It was a fun dining experience and my food was really quite yummy and I was able to eat most of it before we discovered a smelly puddle of mystery liquid under our table and I became officially grossed out. Thankfully I had placed my purse on the chair next to me so it did not get soggy, but others were not so lucky.
The house was 1970’s FABULOUS and once we arrived, we discovered that “everyone bring snacks” magically translated to “Cookies and Popcorn” for all who were present. A couple of us hopped onto the golf cart and took a spin around the neighborhood in the pitch dark with no headlights to speak of. We (ok, I) was scared of the barking dogs and the thoughts of future headlines saying something like “Four Oakie Girls Missing After Headlight-less Golf Cart Joy Ride Turns Into Unexpected Dip In the Lake”, so we turned back after we got too far into the creepy woods. (Always a thinker, I am!)
The rest of the evening was spent reading cheesy poetry from a poetry book for the ‘Very Married’. Judging by the pictures in this book, you qualify as ‘very married’ when you hit the dapper age of 85. Wine was poured freely only after we spent twenty minutes trying to open the bottle with the busted corkscrew we found in the drawer. I think the corkscrew was quite a bit older than any of the lovely people pictured in the ‘Very Married’ Poetry Book… it had seen better days. We eventually conquered the wine, however, and much dancing ensued.
Mostly by me.
We all went to bed late and woke up the next morning and had a yummy breakfast and good conversations. Then I drove myself home with ‘Continuum’ blasting through my speakers and my windows rolled down. Because, you know, I’m badass like that.
Note to Self: Free-Lovin’ Windows Down Drive = Most Massive Allergy Attack Ever Recorded.
I am now back to the routine of mommying- which includes tightly sealed car windows on our drives to the bookstore and to Gymboree.
Watch out! Wild Child coming through.