There are few things that bring us more joy than cocktails with the girls, am I right ladies? Yeah, yeah, husband/wife, kids, career, so much joy. Blah, blah, blah. I’m talking about that tribe, those people who knew you before you were really you, when you were still figuring it all out (I’m still working on that one). Whatever your ladies’ nights look like, whether they involve sweatpants and Netflix, or high heels and martinis, it’s a time for us to shed that skin of wife/mom/boss and pose as the person we once were for just a couple of hours. Ah, the bliss of uninterrupted adult conversation about things other than diaper rash and the school pick-up line. Once upon a time we had entire personalities, goals and dreams that were allowed to be just for us, before we had to share everything. There’s nothing better than a drunken evening with friends, laughing so hard we pee (thanks, kids) to remind us. Whether you acquired your favorite people in grade school or college, or somewhere in between, find them. Reconnect. It’s never too late.
I am lucky enough to have a couple of groups that I wholeheartedly belong to, and they to me. I have lifelong friends stemming as far back as sixth grade, possibly beyond, and I am forever grateful for their unwavering loyalty and devotion through the years. Then, I have my college friends. Those crazy bitches that I cheated death with every weekend (Oh, let’s face it, pretty much Tuesday-Saturday. Dollar Blues! Flip night!) and invited me into their sisterhood as long as I was willing to duct tape a Mad Dog to my hand and take a drink every time I saw a barn, shack or silo (have you guys SEEN upstate NY??). I know, I know, a recent meme making its way across the internet told me that Mad Dog isn’t really what it’s called, but I can’t change it now. It’s too ingrained on my psyche. Sorry. In being stuck at home, keeping our families safe and trying to teach the little buggers we birthed, while doing our own paying jobs on top of it, it’s pretty easy to see how we could lose all sense of ourselves. My clan set out to correct this injustice and, ladies and gentlemen, I give you……the Zoom meeting.
Every Saturday night, we religiously gather, drinks in hand, to forget about this crazy existence we’re living for a few hours. Husbands and children must leave the room. Sorry folks, them’s the rules. The dog can stay. This group of women once took an oath to be sisters forever, and man did they show up with bells on for this catastrophe. Let me just brag about these women for a minute….I’m talking doctors, lawyers, professors, executives and teachers. I am none of those things and yet I am still one of them. I know, I can’t explain it either. These women, in all their badass glory, are keeping up with their careers in a state of quarantine. Some have children and some don’t, either through choice or circumstance, but it doesn’t matter to us who has what. We are who we are, especially when we’re all together.
And so ensues our weekly shenanigans. There’s talk about the current state of affairs, of course. We talk about husbands and kids too, but mostly we reminisce. In between penis drawings (don’t ask), we remember those good times, back when we thought we were invincible. Hey guys, remember that time I got lost on spring break and could have died? That was awesome. Sneaking boys into the house after hours? That was my specialty. Don’t tell my husband. The frat parties, the mixers, the fake I.D.s, the streaking, the travel cups full of booze at hockey games and the honest-to-goodness bath tubs full of death punch. Oh my god, how in the actual fuck are we all still alive? Not only are we all still alive, but we’re all doing pretty well. Wild, right?
Sure, our kids bomb our meetings and our husbands conspicuously pass through the room to try to catch what we’re talking about, but don’t worry folks, we save the good stuff for when everyone’s in bed. I would be remiss if I didn’t give the husbands that refill our drinks on their way through a special shout out. Ladies, good choice on that one, he’s a keeper. Once, we had a couple of birthdays to celebrate, so we played a few rousing rounds of flip cup. You remember that good old-fashioned college game, right? Yeah, none of us did either, but with a quick Google search, we were on our way. One of our birthday girls got us organized into teams and we played a drinking game. At forty years old. OVER THE COMPUTER! What a time to be alive.
So, what should we take away from this? Get your people together and hold them tight. Virtually, of course, at least for the time being. Sure, we all made new friends in adulthood, maybe even some good ones. But when was the last time one of the moms in your play group held your hair back while you puked in the bathroom of the Phi Sig Lacrosse House? Or unabashedly painted your boobs with red and yellow finger paint to give you a modicum of self respect while you streaked ATO? I’m guessing the answer is ‘never.’ Ladies, you’re my people. Thanks for being there during this most absurd of times. I’ll see you at reunion!
Let's Be Dramatic 