A perfect Saturday night

I spent a couple of hours on the phone catching up with my high school BFF on Saturday night. She was home alone (well, she was the only adult there anyway - TowHead was fast asleep) and I was home alone (I was the only human here - the cats and dogs were off being annoying somewhere else). We were both finishing up our first bottle of wine. (That's why were friends, it's never our first glass...it's the first bottle.)

BTW, for those of you keeping track at home, I opted not to take my antibiotic on Saturday so I could drink. Yes, I'm going to hell - and will have a killer headache on my way down. I know this. But a weekend without cocktails is kinda like Motley Crue without Tommy Lee. I mean Samantha Maloney is still a drummer and all, but it's nothing close to the same and not near as fun.



Anyway, a little buzz for each of us and out come the yearbooks. We went through our jr. high and high school annuals over the phone and read what we'd written to each other. If I recall (it's a little fuzzy), it was pretty funny (and, yes, I know...totally lame that this was our Saturday night activity). We wrote in code so "grown-ups" wouldn't know what we were talking about. But now that we're old...we couldn't remember what half of it meant. And we realized that neither of us signed the other's our senior year. (She lived with me for the last few months of it, so this is particularly odd.) But no worries, we've promised to brandish pens and code words next time we're together.

Old friends really are the some of the best friends.