SO why the title of this post? A couple of things. I had my first Girls Night since September last night. Girls Night is when my best friend from high school -- whom I have known since I was 16 and she was 14 -- gets me in trouble. We don't do this nearly enough, especially since we only live ten miles apart, but still we only seem to manage to do this fun stuff twice a year. She came over and helped me move recently, so I have a feeling we'll be doing this running about far more. I know I love it, so we should. We most certainly should.
Last night's Girls Night started around 5:30. I was still in post-house cleaning clothes and no makeup, so we sat around and shot the breeze for a while. Once I got off my duff and made myself presentable we sought refuge at our favorite local Chinese restaurant that recently got a LIQUOR LICENSE! And they have Saturday night Happy Hour.
|Happy Hour watermelon sake.|
Next, we headed over to another neighborhood restaurant to meet up with Rachel's teaching partner and other buddies. There were six of us total, and we only got through one shot each before we realized Rachel didn't have the tickets to the main event: MAGIC MIKE!
Hellish driving (sober!) ensued as we raced over to her house to ruffle through the house for the tickets. With no luck, we headed over to the town next door to her grandfather's house to ruffle through his car (where she had previously unleashed her wallet). Thankfully, the tickets had fallen down beside the seat, and once we found them we were off again! We made it to the movie in plenty of time for:
Yes, six mid-thirties to mid-forties teachers ogling fictional male strippers. A good time was had by all even though the movie is JUST AS BAD AS YOU'VE HEARD. Maybe worse. But Matthew McConaughey was great. He really made the movie with his over-the-top flamboyant madness. And Channing Tatum has a nice...jaw.
And then it was midnight and I'd been up since 5:45am (thanks, Greyson!). So I came home, checked e-mail, read for six minutes, and passed out. A successful girls night, no doubt.
But on to the part where books stick. Because you're wondering about the books...I can feel it. I'm now kind of loving The Last Werewolf. I still occasionally want to kick Glen Duncan in the crotch for some of the overblown writing, but I'm getting to know Jake Marlowe and I like him. I also like the state of werewolfiness in this novel. Promising indeed.
What are you reading this Sunday?