This is another one of those FRIENDS ARE GOOD MEDICINE posts. And they truly are. I was still feeling a bit sleep deprived and in need of some attitude therapy when my friend Bev called yesterday. What great timing she has:
Well, hey Miss Trouble! What's going on?
"I can't talk real fast so if I sound weird that's the reason."
"Yes. I'm lying down with a slab of cucumber on each eye. I read somewhere that will make the bags under your eyes look better. And if I talk fast I jiggle my cukes."
Bev's tone did sound unusual for her. She was speaking slowly and enunciating every syllable. Which is strange because usually she is one of those people that talk so quickly that I can hardly keep up with what she's saying.
Let me know if it works. My bags are bigger than your bags.
She snorted with laughter.
"Dang. Now you made me lose a slice." .::muffled indistinguishable noises::. "Ok. I'm back. It's hell getting old, isn't it? My eyes were never baggy when I was young. Hey. You want to do lunch today?"
"Are you ready to go anytime soon? I just need fifteen more minutes with my beauty treatment here."
I glanced at the clock. It was 11am.
So I'm dressed. But my hair looks like heck and I don't have a bit of makeup on.
"Well. Let me tell you something. I've been meaning to tell you to dial back on the hair and makeup thing lately."
"Yes." There was a momentary silence. "Lost another cucumber. Now what was I saying? Oh, right. Girl. I'm getting so tired of fighting off all the men when we go out together in public."
It was my turn to snort.
"We're just so beautiful, you and I. I mean, haven't you noticed the crowds of men following us wherever we go?"
Um. Actually, no.
"And then I have to tell them all that we're both married and that they have no chance whatsoever with us. And then they're all disappointed."
Ah. So that's what has been happening....
"Yes. It's pretty inconvenient."
Hmm. I can see how that could happen. I'll quit using glitter eyeshadow and false eyelashes.
Laughing, we chose a restaurant and an hour later we were yakking over our salads. Bev sat back in the booth and scanned the laminated pie menu standing prominently at the end of our table.
"So. Are we being good today? Or are we having pie?"
Girl, I groaned. I'm really trying to be good.
She cackled. "I am too. But did you know..." she leaned conspiratorially toward me, "if we split a piece, it cancels out the calories?"
I did NOT know that! See, this is why you're such a good friend. No one ever told me that before!
"I know. I am a good friend. What kind should we get?"
As long as it doesn't have dairy, I love 'em all. You pick.
"How about this? We'll each write down three kinds of pie we like on little pieces of paper. Then we'll mix them up, close our eyes, and pick one."
This woman makes anything into a game. Life is never dull when you're with Bev. Strange, sometimes, yes....but never dull. She produced a pen and paper from her purse, ripped the paper into six pieces, and we scribbled one pie choice on each.
"Hey. Don't look at what I'm picking. It's a surprise." She flipped the scraps over, mixed them up, and closed her eyes.
"Ready? I'll point to one random paper, and that's what we'll have." She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and poised her index finger over the table, then punched. "What did we get?"
Nothing. You missed the papers altogether. And quit laughing, or you'll miss them again!
She closed her eyes and stabbed the table with her finger again.
Woo hoo! Marionberry!
Pie is a very good thing, but even better with good friends. AND when you share a piece, the calories don't count.
Bev said so.
Bev said so.