Where Everybody (who matters) Knows Your Name

Once a year, I get the chance to meet up with my very best friends.  And we have the very best time.  This past weekend, we met in Chicago for a quick rendezvous (and I do mean quick: from the time I pulled out of the driveway Saturday morning til the time I pulled back in Sunday evening, I was gone a total of 36 hours).  We managed to squeeze in a Chicago-style pizza lunch, a night at Howl at the Moon, a trip to Starbucks, and one to Garrett Popcorn (where we stood in line outside in the freezing cold just to buy the world's most delicious popcorn ... totally worth it, by the way).

What I love about spending time with these girls is that we always pick up where we left off.  With just a glance, we know what another is thinking.  And we laugh so, so much.  A short weekend together can literally sustain my spirit for the whole year between our visits.  This year actually marks ten years since we graduated from college, which is hard to believe (especially since, when we're together, we still act feel like we're nineteen).  In our honor, the dueling piano players at Howl at the Moon performed the Cheers theme song for us.

In the meantime, Steve was home with the girls working on his campaign for Father of the Year.  He took the girls grocery shopping, out to lunch, and to two birthday parties.  Although I still felt the pang of guilt about not being home over the weekend (just can't ever get rid of it), Steve fully supported my girls' weekend.  He is always guaranteed plenty of good stories after such a weekend so, really, everyone benefits.