Grace is visiting in preparation for her two-year move to Paris. I am in denial that she is leaving, that for TWO YEARS I can not impulsively jump on a plane and three hours later be standing in Times Square screaming at her on my cell phone to hurry up and meet me already. Which I actually do every few months.
Last night after the normal people went to bed, we put on a huge vat of ribs--she pre-cooks them in cheap beer then bathes them in BBQ sauce for a day or so--and went out to sit on the deck and look at the stars. I got her to try my Janis Joplin cocktail: Southern Comfort, Diet Coke, some cherries and cherry juice. Very southern girly-girl. We were thorougly polluted after two hours and many refills and decided it was time to get the ribs off the stove and into the BBQ sauce. Two plotzed women slinging ribs at 2:00 a.m. is not really advisable. There was a lot of giggling and whispered shushing of one another and bent-over laughing jags that went on until we forgot what it was that was so damn funny. The kitchen looked like the scene of a heinous crime when the family came out for breakfast. Damn, I am going to miss her.
3 comments:
You're having a lot more fun than I am. I think I'm going to start getting very very drunk.
mellie, I highly recommend at least one silly, carefree, child-free, alcohol soaked evening with a girlfriend per year. Come one, woman, you need it. Look at what it's done for eb. She does it EVERY day.
Er give mer da home
Ver da boobaloos roam
Und da schtoops und da peraloos play
Ver berding ma bling
Und a schpring in der schting
And de berder der dang in de schpring
~The Swedish Chef
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