Once a year, whether we need it or not, it's girls' night out. It's an evening built on lifelong friendships and traditions. In 1983 we decided to go out for dinner in December and exchange groovy gifts. Every year Sheryl, Shelly. Doreen and I start at one of our homes with a champagne toast and a picture in front of the fireplace. We haven't changed a bit.
Shelly was the driver last night so she is enjoying a diet coke. We take turns driving. There were several years where whoever was pregnant had to drive. Those days are over. So are the days of trying to get ready with a toddler hanging on your leg. Now our driving turns are based on the order of our birthdays in the year. Our memories aren't what they used to be, so little tricks like that help us. Last night some of us admitted that we have to look at the previous year's pictures so that we don't keep wearing the same outfit. It's a problem. Doreen and I have vintage furs that we always wear for the occasion. Our dress code is snappy casual.
It was so much fun last night. Plenty of laughs and conversation, if you can call it that, since everyone talks at once. I'm not sure that's technically a conversation.
It's more like a shouting match with laughing and snorting.
It's more like a shouting match with laughing and snorting.
Good times.