My posse, my peeps, my peripatetic pals.
Sorry. When former English majors get psyched, we tend toward too much alliteration.
A male friend recently asked me what my BFFs and I do all weekend, mentioning if this were men there’d be a lot of sports watching, beer drinking and stupid stories.
Um–not so much.
I couldn’t explain to him in detail but I could confirm that several of the items below are almost guaranteed to happen:
I will laugh until I am crying and my stomach hurts.
There will be someone in her underwear carrying a drink through my bedroom on her way to pilfer shoes from my closet to wear out that evening.
Another someone will be in the same garb rifling through my jewelry box.
We will discuss our children after swearing not to discuss our children. Ditto with weight gain, hormonal changes and work.
I will cry tears of joy or sorrow while listening to my besties’ shared life bits.
Someone will try to better organize my cupboards, closet, refrigerator or desk. And it won’t be me.
Despite the fact that I am not a typical, “Yo, bitches” woman, I will say this multiple times throughout the weekend. Because I can. Safely.
Something akin to dancing will occur. Most likely in my family room, bedroom, on the street or in a shop. We will hope no one Vines this activity.
We will collectively cluck at the stupidity of people who do not get us, who put up roadblocks to our progress, who gossip about us. And we, of course, will be right.
Spanx will run rampant in my household. Or should I say, outside of my household. Inside, we let it all hang out.
At some point, we will find ourselves discussing recipes or anti-aging products. Then we’ll catch ourselves, horrified that we sound so completely middle-aged. This will inspire us to get up and dance more. Perhaps in our underwear. Just to prove we can. When really, all it proves is a few middle-aged women have drunk enough to dance in their underwear in a family room. Don’t worry, neighbors. I’ll close the blinds.
I will not get enough sleep. I will eat too much. We will talk too much.
The beauty of it does not escape me. And if you’re a woman, I know you see it. Here’s to the weekend.