Friday night we went to a going away party for my friend Krista and her husband. They’re moving to Kansas City. The nerve.
That’s Krista in the purple, and Christa in the white. Confused? So were we. Oh, no, wait, we were just drunk.
I can’t even begin to write about how much I will miss Krista, or about what a tremendous friend she is or how much I adore her. Because then I will cry and that would be BAD. But it’s all true, and more, and I miss her already.
Sniff.
We had a great time Friday night, pretending like we were just dressed up and drinking for FUN! and not because some of our favorite people were packing a truck and driving out of town. It was quite a party.
When my mom saw the pictures she said, “Where were the guys?” In the other room, of course. The girls were all in Christa’s living room, talking about our boobs and licking each other, while the men hid in the family room and talked about sports and politics. Or maybe about boobs. But I doubt there was any licking.
While we were taking pictures, Christa kept saying, “ARE YOU GOING TO BLOG THIS?” And I kept reminding people, “I have a blawwwg, you know!” I said it just like that. And everyone laughed, because I’m so funny! And also, we were DRUNK!
People said some really hysterical things to me on Friday night, many of which were, indeed, about boobs. Several people also said, “OH MY GOD PLEASE DO NOT WRITE THAT IN YOUR BLAWWWWG!” Sadly, I was too drunk to remember what exactly was so funny, so all I have are the pictures. You girls can breathe a sigh of relief. Your secrets are safe with me, thanks to the nice people at Kendall Jackson my incredible loyalty and discretion.
Saturday morning I woke up feeling a little, er, peaked (that’s peak-ED, you know, which is MUCH prettier than HUNG OVER). Five Tylenol and a bottle of water later, I was able to start packing; after three cups of coffee, I thought I might not die in the car on the way to Albuquerque. Because really, it wasn’t a great idea to go drinking with my girlfriends the NIGHT BEFORE we drove the 547 miles from my house to my parents’ house.
And now you’re wondering, how long does it take to drive 547 miles? Well, I’ll tell you! Wade and I, alone, can do it in just over seven and a half hours; with the kids, it takes us about eight and a half. My kids are great car travellers; they prefer not to stop, if it is at all possible. Just like their daddy. The last time we drove to New Mexico, Henry said, “When we get to Amarillo, let’s just drive through and eat our lunches in the car.” I think he would pee in a cup rather than stop to go potty, if only we would let him. Which we don’t.
So yesterday, we get on the road and we drive and drive and drive. Charlie spends the ENTIRE first hour asking, “Are we in Albuquerque yet? Are we in Albuquerque YET? Are we in ALBUQUERQUE YET?” I thought seriously about leaving him at the first rest stop. Only because I was hung over, you know.
We drive and drive and around 4:00 we drive into Tijeras Canyon, which is the last stretch before Albuquerque and my parents’ house; it’s usually at this point that we call and say “Opent the wine! We’ll be there in half an hour!” The canyon comes through the Sandia Mountains; it’s beautiful and the speed limit is 65 and there was a wreck on 140 east bound that had the traffic stopped. COMPLETELY STOPPED. We got off onto Old Route 66, which is the only other way through the mountains, and for TWO AND A HALF HOURS we inched along at three miles an hour. The boys watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and Henry figured out how to skip from scene to scene so they probably watched most of the movie twice. Charlie kept saying, “MY BOTTOM HURTS! I WANT TO BE THERE!” Every time he said it, I gave him a chocolate chip cookie. We called my mother to tell her what was going on, and she said, “I hope no one has to go to the bathroom.”
I said, “Well, now I do. Thanks.”
The last time I went on vacation, we spent the day stranded in the airport. This time, we spent the day stranded in the car. DO YOU SEE A THEME?
Do not ever vacation with me.