First things first! I screwed up and didn't post the contest winners! Here they are: Abigail Beal, Refhater and TerriO! E-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org to claim your prize!
I was at a wedding last weekend. That's what the picture is from. Free beer and roses everywhere is just too much temptation for me. And as we all know...free beer tastes better. That is, until the kegs run out and you have to actually BUY beer. That beer tastes okay...it just isn't free. And suddenly, Leslie has no more cash in her teeny, tiny but oh-so-chic handbag and that makes Leslie sad.
A number of years ago, before I was an author, I'd started a drinking club for women. A secret club. We called ourselves WAD (Women Are Drinking). I formed chapters in Virginia and Iowa. We had laminated membership cards that said, "Buy me a drink, and no one gets hurt." Once a month, we'd meet secretly and hit a town where no one knew us. We always had one (may I say, disgruntled?) designated driver - so hey, we were responsible.
What did we do? Well, we'd go to clubs and request Tori Amos songs and when the dance floor cleared, we'd try to dance to Tori Amos (you pretty much have to be drunk for that). Sometimes we would be just standing there, but think we were moving. Once, we got tattoos. One time we got thrown out of a bar and ended up skinny dipping in a lake where it was so dark we couldn't see. And then there was the time our designated driver had to take us to the bathroom as we formed a human chain of drunk women so we wouldn't fall over. Darlene puked in the beer cooler.
Mr. Assassin loved it. He always could hear my ride drop me off a mile away as we shouted, "SHHHHHH! YOU'LL WAKE THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD!" A car of giggling women would pull up and I'd roll out onto the grass laughing. Tom would scoop me up and take me inside.
I miss those days. I was ten years younger and an idiot, but it was fun.
So, last weekend I dropped off the kids, said goodbye to the housesitter, and met up with my friends to drive two and a half hours south to a very small town on the Missouri, Iowa border.
I won't tell you what happened. But it was nice to get out and drink with the girls again. Granted, the teenage DJ had never heard of Tori Amos so we had to settle for Lady GaGa. And no one even puked in the beer cooler...didn't even come close.