There was going to be more, so much more to this post – and you shoulda been in my head while I was thinking about it, it was awesome. But I’ve run into a bit of trouble.
I may have killed off the brain cells that came up with it.
And it’s too bad. I really liked those brain cells. They helped balance my checkbook, came up with excuses as to why I couldn’t attend whatever it was I said I would attend and was now going to wienie out of, and held the secret to some of my better blog ideas.
Once again, friends, Romans, and countrymen, in the search for a dark friendly corner, camaraderie, and several Strong Bows, I’ve wiped my brain clean of the stress of the previous week.
Ah, the destructive and restorative properties of alcohol! I’ve lost all those bright ideas that kept me amused last night but I’ve also managed to pull my shoulders out of my ears, their default setting in order to absorb the blows I assume are coming.
I am lucky, of course, in that I’m not a repetitive sort of person and am free to choose when I drink. While I enjoy patterns, I’m leery of the ones that I see in myself.
Oh, and I also don’t like repetition.
Still, an evening with Amy, Diana, and Steph in a booth at the 331 was just the sort of thing that all the best movies and books recommend.
And writers wouldn’t lie to us, would they?
Speaking of which, have you ever listened in on the kinds of dialogue that pleasantly inebriated women indulge in?
I wouldn’t, if I were you. Women are strange and wondrous creatures with the ability to share an astonishing amount of information, but not everyone has the necessary clearance to be present when it’s divulged.
Last night, the conversations included midlife crises, male menopause, pregnancies and other sexually-transmitted wonderments, thong versus full-bottomed undies, and a number of other topics that I could only be coerced into revealing if someone were to buy me, oh, a number of Strong Bows.
The remaining weekends in April have been reserved for a serving job, a trip to Dayton Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Writers Conference and various other appointments.
But I have room on my calendar in May.
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