“You have 15 to 20 minutes before you are bombarded with friendship. Be prepared.”
Last night. I was cleaning house, listening to the Broadway Showstoppers station on Pandora, wearing striped underwear and mom’s embroidered halter top from the 70s, and baking banana bourbon chocolate chip bread.
I turned down plans with a friend, a “friend date,” to do this. “I’ve got a date with myself,” I told her.
But…turns out you can’t just text your Stephanies a picture of you in your underwear and halter top and expect them not to show up at your house. I was making guacamole, anyways.
Told them I was in the middle of cleaning/dancing/baking, that I couldn’t be a great hostess for very long…but in the end it turned out not to matter. Because I don’t need to host them. There is no courting here, just epic hanging out and talking, laughing, complete honesty…
And whiskey gingers. Lots and lots of whiskey gingers.
(I call them that even when I use bourbon. True story).
Incidentally, I started the day off with sauteed chard.
We call that detox, friends. But it was totally worth it.