Girls' Weekend

It's here!  Girlfriend Weekend!  Our twice a year-two day talk therapy-shoe shopping-music marathon.  The three of us spend hours and hours talking and eating, drinking and dancing.

Our weekends started about twenty years ago.   We certainly weren't moms and I'm pretty sure i wasn't even a wife yet.  Can't remember.  It was decided that instead of exchanging Christmas gifts, we'd spend a weekend together before the holidays.  A gift to each other and ourselves. Manicures. Open hotel hospitality bar. Make up counters.  Within the last decade we've settled into a cycle of Memorial weekend and hunting opener.  How Minnesota, eh?

We've traveled to some great places, mostly because I left the area for a few years. Vegas! Chicago!  Madison, Wisconsin!  Right?!  But over the years, we figured out location, location, location doesn't make a bit of difference.

What we craved was a return to the tight bond of friendship.  That beautiful place where you can emotionally barf all over and someone else clean it up.  All three of us have been through the wife making, baby factory, milk machine, toddler tantrums and day care dilemma of our twenties, pet problems, childhood development of our thirties and teen drama, sandwich parenting and college selection in our mid forties.  All three of us have attempted to patch up broken marriages.  All three of us have ended up divorced.

So much to talk about.

So much that the bulk of our time is spent in pajamas, drinking coffee and having endless conversations...until the caffeine gets us restless enough to head out for a walk, or pedicures, or some shoe shopping.  Maybe a movie.  Or a show. Doesn't matter because we're usually anxious get back to home base for comfy clothes and more chat.

In my twenties it was common to know girlfriends doing the same thing.  Less so in our thirties. Now in my forties, I'm sad how many women don't have this lifelong bond in their lives.  Friends take time, effort, energy, patience.  Things not easy to have time for in today's world.  How many times do I have to lose the *who eats the most fiber* competition without getting down on myself?  And realizing that I pay too much for cable? Or opening up about those sneaky hot flashes that are starting to happen. It's work.  Sometimes.

But the payoff is ginormous.  Every time.

This year I'm packing up and driving all the way to Blaine, MN.  Sod capital of the world.
My suitcase full of clean PJs, shoes for any whim, a few bottles of wine and "anything in danger of rotting in the fridge over the weekend". As instructed.  Probably some Advil.  Mylanta. I've got some digestive issues they need to help me resolve.  Lucky girls.
 
amy