After every weekend of girlfriending, I wonder, "What can I possibly write this time that hasn't already been said?" It's easy to chronologically recount our adventures one by one, but it doesn't really capture the spirit of what girlfriend time means. Mr. Musky called me out on it this morning. "Does anyone really want to read about this? Do they even care?"
"Some, perhaps. Others, maybe not," I acknowledged.
I truthfully don't know if people are interested in our self indulgent behavior. But I'm not seeking validation from the world. I recount these weekends for the ladies, so when we're 90 and in nursing homes we can pull up our adventures online to prove that we were once spry and dug a stranded, embarrassed snowmobiler out of six feet of snow with our girlfriends.
As for me and my friends, there is only one way to do this. First, on night one, we have some beverages.
Aside from all the fun adventures, what I love the most is the girls who join me. They're all interesting, headstrong, willful, loving souls who deal with their own version of daily challenges and need the getaway. I'm amazed and in awe of all of them, for different reasons.
My kindred spirit. The talker.
This girl owns a part of my soul.
Because she lifts heavy shit, and could throw me over her shoulder and run both of us to safety. She's also good to have on a treacherous, icy trail. Clearly, this path in the UP of Michigan proved impassable.
Now here's where I lose it.
Prophetic, I know.
Her response left all of us with jaws on the table, gawking over our brats and burgers. "Whelp, yes. I'm going to miss her. Because in April, I'm moving to Germany."
Come again? You've been here with us since yesterday, drank pints of martinis and cinnamon flavored whiskey and made snow angels on the lake and helped kidnap our neighbor and went sledding down a scary hill and are JUST NOW TELLING US THIS MONUMENTAL, LIFE ALTERING, FOREVER-CHANGE-YOUR-VIEWPOINT ON THE WORLD NEWS!?!
She leaves in two months to chase a lifelong dream shelved for years while she supported her family and raised her daughters alongside her husband. Now her family is rallying around Mama Bower. They are all waving their European freak flags, and Amy will finally see all the beautiful, inspiring art she studied in college but didn't get to pursue since like so many of us, she took the reasonable route in life.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. The reasonable route is important, responsible and gratifying. But the risky path can provide just as much satisfaction, with a solid dose of adrenaline. For those of us who are able to dally in both? That balance makes our tickers hum just a little more strongly.
Once she safely arrived back to the Land of Lincoln, she penned some of the kindest words anyone has ever said to me. I cherish these golden nuggets.
"I've come to think of Jennifer as a treasured soul catalyst. Reconnecting with her has inspired and pushed me to actually do things that I want to do. Her kind heart and adventurous spirit along with her seemingly effortless role as the Queen of both hospitality and amazing cocktails makes time with her and her wonderful friends (who I consider mine now too) some of my favorite adventures."
I love these girls, and all of the beauties in my life.
For recaps of past girls' weekends, click on the following links:
2010: Girls Weekend
2011: Reckless Abandon
2012: The Push/Pull of Friendship
2013: Best Friends
Seventy-Five Pounds of Shit
Calling all Chickadees
Southern Girls go Ice Fishing
2014: The Sum is Greater than its Parts