Movie Night

Movie Night, a.k.a. ‘Glad ya’ll liked the shrimp, sorry about the drunk picture-taking!’

This weekend I hosted a little get-together for the girls who are going to Paris so we could eat French cheese and drink French wine and watch some French movies. (Can ya’ll tell we are excited about this trip?) Shannon couldn’t make it, and we were very sad, but we soldiered on and before long the wine was opened and cheeks were pinkened and all was well. But we did miss you, Shannon!

Jennifer and Gloria and Amber came over, and we commenced with the merrymaking, bonjour beaujoulais! The last time I had even a drop of alcohol was on Shannon’s birthday, so needless to say cheeks were pink here at chez wino in no time flat. Although this was allegedly a wine and cheese party, as a Southerner I have trouble serving only cheese for dinner and at the last minute I marinated some shrimp for kebabs. An excellent choice because I got to use my new grill! I do love my new baby grill, which is propane and little and cute as a button. AND IT COST ME $19.95. No lie. I understand why the rest of the nation is in love with Wal-Mart, because even though I had to drive all the way to Panorama City for this little grill, it was well worth it.

Also, I have the worst post-party anxiety. Does everyone do this or is it another fine Neurotic Girl trait? You know, the party ends, people leave (or you leave, if it was hosted elsewhere) and you smack your forehead for all the dumb things you said. You wake up the next morning vowing once and for all (again) to shut the hell up next time and refrain from A) talking about the bird flu and B) Telling everyone how in love you are with Dr. Andrew Weil and C) Showing everyone pictures of said doctor to which they say things like, “Oh.” and “He’d make a good Santa Claus.” and D)THE TALKING.

But there is nothing better in all this world than the company of your closest girlfriends, and hopefully they will forgive me for the talking, and also the drunk photography that I somehow always mange to force people into when we look our worst. Love you! Can’t wait for Paris! And maybe next time on Movie Night we’ll actually watch a movie, whoops!