Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Girls' Night Out

I missed my girls' night out dinner. There are about six of us -- I'm the oldest of course, by twenty years in one case. Everybody's married but me. I just seem married. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not.

We started getting together about once a month just because it's nice to have an excuse to hang with your girlfriends without the smell of testosterone. I think it started out as a way to celebrate all our birthdays and then we just decided to keep it going even without an excuse to party.

One of us is an architect who has renovated two of our houses, making them worthy of inclusion in a magazine. One was a Victorian, the other a brick and clapboard ranch that was completely transformed when she finished.
I remember being amazed that she was an architect maven who has transformed some ordinary houses into extraordinary homes. All the architects I've known have been guys with a penchant for unusual shoes, ties or jackets with illusions of being the next Frank Lloyd Wright. Or Frank Gehry.

She also reminds me of an Italian Rachael Ray, full of energy, down to earth and very funny. She also dresses with the fashion flair of a soccer mom, since she does that too.
Wish I had a house worth renovating and the money to do it. She did her own place, too. One of these days I'll take some pictures.

For one of our girls' nights out a couple of years ago she created a salad that included an array of colorful designer tomatoes and a dressing I'd never tasted before. She has yet to repeat herself and every salad has been something unusual and muy tasty. The problem is she just kind of wings it, so after they're gone, they're gone.

Also in attendance was my friend who has her own ad agency. And a bunch of other marketing and creative peeps like myself. One of the marketing bunch is working for me on a project and got so pissed off today that she hung up on me. That's because I was interrupting her too much. The reason I was interrupting her was because I knew what she was going to say. That pissed her off even more.

We were insulting each other so much that she started complaining about the way I write my emails, claiming that I send them in all caps like I'm screaming at her. Do not. Do too. Do not. Do too. You are so in denial. You are so wrong. 

I have been sending them in boldface type forever. Not caps. NA NA NA NA NA. So when I proved she was mistaken, I sent her a final email that said, "You are SO busted." It was straight out of kindergarten.

Even with a day like that we were still going to go hear Aretha Franklin at Ravinia Festival, the outdoor summer music venue near here. It's only ten bucks to sit out on the lawn, so we planned to have a nice pot luck supper, listen to the Queen of Soul and call it a night.  But it's been raining so much that nobody wanted to sit on the wet grass in the heat and humidity, especially when you never know when it's going to rain again. So we decided to go to a tapas place instead and do the little-twenty-dollar-dishes-you-can-share thing.

Except I ended up not going. I had a good excuse though -- pick one:  I just went to the dermatologist for Botox and my face doesn't move yet.  I was pumping water out of my basement, thanks to all the torential rain and the construction across the street when I struck oil. I had a date with an old boyfriend who wanted to rekindle what we had forty years ago with Viagra. I'm dieting so I can get into my thong bikini. None of the above. All the above.

Whatever. I didn't go. Ironically, it didn't rain again so we could have gone to Ravinia. Meanwhile the girls are probably still at the tapas place talking about me.

P.S. Before I had all the ivy taken off the east and north sides of my house I took a picture of some of it framing my back door. I thought it was kind of quaint, like an English cottage. A hairy English cottage.



screaminremo303 said...


psychfun said...

What are you doing up so late? HA! Man the group sounds like so much fun. Reminds me of the group in the movie Something New (have you seen that?) except you have some married & different ages & ...ok so it isn't quite the same but the going at each other idea & yet having fun too.

Dang we get any more rain & we will have to use boats...but hey it might be cheaer to put gas in them than our SUVs! HA!

I'm surprised you didn't post on Ryan going to the slammer! HA! Love to hear your thoughts on that one! And I live in Ryan Country! Ugh! The camera crews descended on us like a swarm of bees....except all the ones that are dying due to cell phones!

Love the why did you get that trim? Samson was getting too strong? Your neighbors will be even more nosier now! You could have gave the cops a challenge to get to you through the ivy! HA!

Hey, at least the Cubs really pulled one out for us tonight! :-)

salemslot9 said...

I think Rachael Ray is Italian...hehe
years ago we used to have
"the breakfast club"
nothing like the movie , though
a small group of women
some with babies
from church
getting together at the local mall
once a week
to have breakfast together and shop

jevanslink said...

She's Sicilian and Cajun.  

Mrs. L

salemslot9 said...

I didn't know for sure
I guess that I heard her say
she loved Italian
like she was Italian
are there different kinds of Italian?
sometimes I tape her
cooking segments for our John

mombzbe said...

Look at how clean your door is!  

If that were my door, it would be beige with handprints and smeared with dog noses....the dry cleaning would be all over the neighborhood....there'd probably be a crack in the pane.....

Your door is beautiful. :)

jevanslink said...

The dry cleaning was on the FRONT door. I should take a picture of the huge FIESTA wreath hanging there now. My girlfriend brought it up from San Antonio in April. It must have three feet of ribbon hanging down. The whole front door is covered.

PS to Salem -- Sicilians are from Sicily. Italians are from Italy. We may think they're the same, but they don't.

Mrs. L