Girl's weekend, part I (Friday - Saturday)

Two weekends ago, my apartment was transformed in a matter of hours into the home base for Operation Girls' Weekend.

Couches and tables were pushed up against the outside walls of the apartment, and the middle was piled high with blankets, pillows, and bottles of wine/wine glasses. Also, it was overrun with hair-doing appliances. I've never seen so many curling irons, straighteners, kinkers and blowdryers in one place. I'm actually surprised Seattle City Light didn't have to call in emergency backup to power us.

As I mentioned before, my girlfriend flew in from out of state to spend some time with three of us who've stayed local. Because we've only seen her probably twice in the last 8 months, this was reason to celebrate. And celebrate we did. All weekend.

There was lots of the usual girlfriend stuff - discussion about old and new friends, husbands, live-in boyfriends, parents, religion, family, sex, shampoo, fiber, McDreamy vs. McSteamy, and our collective exes. There was also a lengthy discussion about how often a person should, in fact, go number two. Answers ranged from twice daily, like clockwork, to twice a week, on a good week. This was, believe it or not, a rather heated debate.

There was also record-breaking drinking. Honestly, we anticipated a little boozing here and there during the weekend, celebration-style, but I am quite certain we set a new record on Saturday. It was like any Girls Weekend Saturday: We went to breakfast, watched Sex and the City and talked all day, lying prone on various piles of pillows and blankets. The only thing that was new was that we drank like it was our job.

The funny thing was that we weren't doing that thing where you set out to "make a day of it". We just always somehow had a drink in our hands -- starting at breakfast. I blame this on a shopping excursion that fully stocked my fridge with every type of alcoholic beverage imaginable. Oh, and my girlfriend L, who was responsible for refilling all our drinks. Girl did a standup job, if I do say so myself.

Just to illustrate the unthinkable quantities of adult beverage we consumed, per person, a tally:

10 a.m. - 11:30 a.m.
- Two drinks per person at breakfast (mimosas or bloody marys)

Noon-5 p.m.
- One large bottle of Raspberry Framboise, each (soooo girly, I know)
- One bottle of white wine, each, while watching Sex and the City and then later while blowdrying, straightening and curling

5 p.m. - 2 a.m.
- Two martinis, each, at/before dinner
- One after-dinner shot each, at restaraunt
- Three beers and two shots each at the first bar
- Two beers each at the second club
- Two drinks each at the after-party (gin)

Grand total, per-person, Saturday night: 22 alcoholic beverages, each.

This is a gross number. Not gross like gross vs. net, but gross like disgusting. I almost can't believe it, myself. And it's not like we're big girls... we're all between 5 foot 4 and 5 foot 8, and weight somewhere between 125 and 145 lbs. To add to the unbelieveability of this story, we all woke up the next morning feeling really, really good. Not a hangover in sight. Go figure.

I also don't want to neglect an incredible meal we shared at McCormick and Schmick that night -- not only was the atmosphere and food beautiful, but the company was, as well. I've commented on this before, but there's just some kind of special energy that hovers about a group of girls who get dressed up and take themselves out. There's a glow that radiates both within your tight little circle and around you. I've observed it from the outside before -- but there's nothing like having it all around you. We were warm, happy, close, and all felt just a little beautiful, I think. Or maybe that was the glow of a healthy 4-hour buzz. Whatever it was, it was lovely. And our waiter brought us free dessert, noting that he and the waitstaff determined that we must be "celebrating something".

Yes, we were. It was friendship.
And the no-flour chocolate cake was divine.

(Part II: the Ticket Gods' Revenge coming soon...)