Big Chairs And Best Friends

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So I was on a girl trip recently and realized something about myself. I feel so much more current and fashionable around these gals. We go in stores like Lucky, Anthropology, Free People and I convince myself that I look really good in these clothes, not like I’m wearing a costume at all. So I make a purchase or ten and cannot wait to get home and wear these things because I am going to look so fab… But for some reason, when I put them on in my neck of the woods I feel like such a poser! How is it that something that looked so amazing in the store in Atlanta looks so ridiculous in my full length mirror in Augusta? Maybe it’s because my best friends are not there to say “Oh that looks GREAT on you!”; maybe the lighting in my house is horrific; or maybe it’s simply because I am in all actuality forty-five years old.

You see when I am with my besties, I feel like I am sixteen and the world is mine for the taking. The minute we get together, regardless of where we are, I go back to when we were in high school together- young and totally unencumbered. Now you could analyze it until the cows come home, but the truth of the matter is, these girls just get me. They have known me over thirty years and surprisingly they still like me! For just a bit there is absolutely nothing required of me other than to enjoy myself. We shop, eat well, laugh, talk and we may or may not sit in a really big chair in the middle of Phipps Plaza at 10:30pm that was roped off and clearly marked “Do Not Sit In Chair”.

We don’t always get together, but when we do… it is amazing!! Now excuse me while I google “how to return clothes that looked fab in the store but at home make you look ridiculous”…

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The Mind Is A Terrible Thing

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Why is it that I can remember a list of verbs learned in the seventh grade (is be am are was were have had has do does did may might can could will would must) but struggle to remember why I walked in the other room? Maybe its because of all the reading I do, but for whatever reason, my brain likes to hold on to essentially useless things like the words to Billy Don’t Be A Hero or the theme song from Sigmund the Sea Monster (“He’s my friend and a whole lot more”…oh, don’t act like you’ve never heard of that show.)

I have the uncanny ability to remember things that don’t matter. My friends and family have always said I am the queen of useless knowledge and truth be told, they’re right. Sure every now and then it’s useful but more like a party trick most of the time. Hey, Mikey let’s see if she remembers (blank). Sometimes I wonder if that is the real reason my husband married me. So that if we were ever held at gunpoint unless we could remember the catch phrase from “Patch the Pony” movie from 1974 I could bail us out. (Again, don’t act like you don’t remember “Neigh, neigh from strangers stay away.”)

If only it could be really useful information that stuck in my brain like how to spell “onamonapia” (I had to google it and believe me that was most difficult since I couldn’t spell it.) Wouldn’t that be nice? But it’s not. It’s really random stuff like commercial jingles from the last century (Don’t give me that same old soda I want a rock and roller, I want a pop, pop, pop. I want a Shasta!) or all the words to “Babe I’m Leaving” from 1978. (I could even tell you who I danced to that song with… but I’ll spare you guys… and him the embarrassment.)

Who knows, maybe one day all this useless information will come in handy? There could always come a time when I am offered a million dollars if I can correctly identify Grant Goodeve as playing David Bradford on “Eight is Enough” or recite all the ingredients on a Big Mac (two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun) or heaven help us sing all the words to “Let’s Do It For Our Country” from Grease 2.

It’s a gift people. It’s. A. Gift.