(The answer is always no, girls. Respect yourselves!)
And I was searching through the pitiful contents of my closet that didn't seem so pitiful the last time I'd checked. I must have gone through a dozen outfits and rejected every one of them. They made me look like such a...mom!
I gave up, settled on the last frumpy get-up, and attempted to get a style going in my newly shorn hair. It wasn't working. I'm used to having long, flowing, waist-length locks to work with. Now it's shoulder length, and I'm clueless what to do with it. I just brushed it and let it go. What ya gonna do?
I waited, cringing at the state of my house, which would soon be viewed by new eyes. Hey, I never claimed to be a neat freak, but sometimes even I'm surprised how much clutter I will allow to pile up before I grab a pitchfork and my OCD buddy, Shannon, and get the place put to rights. Alas, Shannon's in Ohio, and my pitchfork must be buried under layers of Aqua Dots, a week's worth of old newspapers, and piles of clean laundry (yay for working washers!).
So, who was this individual who had me in such a tither? None other than the incomparable Ms. Emma Sometimes herself!
Yeah, you'd be freaked, too!
Well, it seems I had no reason to be. We're total BFF's now. She's getting a tattoo on her buttcheek that says so!
After a couple hours of braiding each others' hair, talking about boys we like, and engaging in scantily-clad pillow fights, we moved the party to Dapoppin's house. It didn't break up until the wee hours of the afternoon when Emma had to pick her kids up from school.
Oh, what fun we had! It was swell, I tell you! Swell!
Maybe even...The Best Day Ever?!!