Say your weekend goes like this: your temporary adult roommate co-works with you all day at your patio table. Y’all hit up a yoga class, then decide to go for a quick dinner after showering. You have a glass or 3 of shower wine, and then a to-go cup and head to Dory Deli. You sit next to some fine-lookin’ young fellas and strike up a conversation about—what else—go Eagles! and all the sudden you’re heading to Beach Ball and Stag and your house for a late-night fire pit.
Then, say you wake up for a football game, hop on your bike, catch a TD, head to the bar after for a bloody mary and tuna melt (x2). Your besties from the night before meet up with an exquisite English dame and her handsome fella, and the six of you are now best friends as you traipse through Main Street HB before bike ganging back to Newport, not without a stop a fire pit for some rosé, naturally. From there you house hang, then head to a few bars, run into a few people you know, hit up a Del Taco, and suddenly you’re calling in a once-a-year favor to start Sunday vb just one hour later because you haven’t yet gone to bed and it’s getting light again.
Then say you play hours on hours of terrible volleyball, maybe sip some medicinal champagne before mowing down some not-that-great Chinese food and sleeping for the next day and a half.
Not saying that’s how my weekend went, just saying I’m grateful for weekend best friends that you may or may not ever see again, a fun phenomenon of being young and unattached.
This weekend also happens to be slated to be filled with best friends, albeit ones I see all the time. We’re swapping sand for snow on a long weekend in Mammoth and I cannot wait to shred and laugh and play and cheer on my team-by-proxy and the best damn free safety to ever play the game.
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If you think this is for you, it probably is.
On a more serious note … as it’s February I thought we might revisit 2018 being the year of action with a little pat on Lyssa’s back, as I did two (2) things this week that were so true to myself, yet so hard to do—obviously in the face a gorgeous man (or two) because we know that’s my cool kryptonite. I’m grateful I found strength? peace? in being true to myself.