Friend Date

I am a busy person. I have a kid and a job and a husband that suck up a majority of my time. I also have this little website that seems to need an obscene amount of cuddling. And I take way to many pictures, whic subsequently must be edited and tweaked and pretty-fied. I also have a dog that insists on pooping only during walks and never in the backyard, ensuring that any free time I do find myself with is spent in the freezing cold yelling “Just GO already!”

So once in a while I like to set up a friend date. Definition: A night out with a good friend wherein you at no times have to think about how they are going to accost you in a drunken stupor later in the evening requesting dirty deads. May include a movie, dinner, drinks, and a small amount of debauchery.

The other night I had a friend date with my good buddy, Lane. Now Lane is the kind of person who is childless, yet married, so she has plenty of events and social gatherings that she attends on a regular basis. She also does not have a pet, so rarely is she screaming at anyone to hurry up and poop. And on top of all of that, she enjoys most of my guilty pleasures like MTV’s hoard of reality television and Britney Spears circa 2001, and does so with reckless abandon. Whereas I am a bit embarrassed by the amount of Entertainment Tonight I watch in a week, Lane would shout it from the rooftops. Except she’s not much of a shouter. And I’ve never known her to climb rooftops.

As most date nights do, this evening started out with an obession over what to wear. Classic? Fancy? Dress? Casual? Crap.

In the end, I decided to go with some easy-fit Limited jeans (aka Mom Jeans) along with my favorite and most comfortable J. Crew sweater. That I bought in 1998. When I still had money because my mother paid for my clothes. But I love it, despite it’s awkward…ummm….antique quality.

Note: When taking a photo of oneself in a mirror, one most always strike a fierce pose. Make Tyra proud.

Final steps to getting ready for a fabulous friend date includes finding a great pair of shoes and some delicious perfume.

Even if said perfume is near the bottom of the bottle, squirt out some air from the bottle onto yourself. And call it good.

The next step is to make sure your babysitter (or husband) is on time. Because it really sucks to be late.

Hopefully your date is understanding (as mine was) and you spend the next hour bitching about jobs and husbands and life. A very cathartic experience, enhanced by accessibility to alcohol.

Then hop in your date’s hot Mitsubishi for a ride to the theater….wait….that’s not a Mitsubishi!!!

This car doesn’t even need a key! Or a person to drive it. Or a man with no sense of direction, due to the onboard directions. Did I mention my date sucks. And is dumb. And sucky. Bitch.

Good thing we saw Penelope, a movie about finding who you really are, even if you don’t have a Lexus (bitch). It was short, sweet and fun…and starring my future husband, Mr. James McAvoy (swoon…).

Schedule a friend date. As long as you have a good friend, alcohol and a chick flick, it is sure to be a hit. Unless they show off their fancy car. In which case you should probably refuse to pay for the popcorn. On principle.

P.S. If you have/will see this movie, check out Penelope’s wardrobe. I covet it, especially the stockings and high heeled green Mary-Janes. Lordy.