Thirty-two years ago today, my BFF Rochelle Polonsky Napoli had her first--and last--hangover, which meant she had to bail on our long-planned weekend excursion to Club Getaway, which meant she and I couldn't spend the entire weekend cutting up all the nerdy, goofy guys while simultaneously pretending not to be desperate to meet one of them.
I ventured out without my snarky sidekick, and sat at a table in the rustic dining hall, while the enthusiastic staffer attempted to get us to play ice-breaking games like, "describe yourself in one word using the first letter of your first name" and I wished my named had been something like Brittany so I could have answered "Bitchy!" instead of "kooky!"
I whispered to Pamela M. Bond-Contractor, "wow..the guy with the beard is kind of cute" (and I mean a literal beard) and thus life began with the nerdy goofy guy that I was supposed to be making fun of.
Ten years ago on this same very date, that nerdy, goofy, partner in crime and our fourteen year old walked into the home of a kook who bred psychotic poodles, and we opted for the apricot instead of the red.
What does all of this mean?
It means that I find random but incredible coincidences in that vast storage of memories I call a memory bank.
I means I can do simple math.
It means I might have had MY first and last hangover too when I made ONE of these decisions.
I will spend this anniversary re-stuffing my fourth comforter of the year.
It's too cool for pool, so I will indulge myself with my KIndle in between customers'--or more likely solicitor's--phone calls.
I am SO LOVING "Donna Has Left the Building" by Susan Jane Gilman..cannot wait to visit her today
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