Giving props to my friends on National Friendship Day
In what I’m calling synchronicity combined with coinkidink, this Saturday is National Friendship Day, y’all.
National Friendship Day is special to me, and it should be to you ... because we all need friendship.
This aligning of the stars is special because it coincides with a 17th annual girlfriend’s weekend retreat that the same group of women and I - we call ourselves the BOB Club - began in August of 2001.
This weekend is a retreat to a lake cabin, where we expect to see no one. But in the 16 years prior we’ve traveled from Fort Worth, to Jefferson, to Oklahoma and Perryton and several now culturally-enriched places in between.
Over the years, we have hunted for ghosts, unexpectedly babysat a horse, met the heir of a Texas jelly empire, entertained masses of people (but most of all ourselves), and karaoke’d badly in all of these places.
To fully express the totality of our adventures probably wouldn’t be suitable for a newspaper column, but you should definitely check a book store near you in a couple years. But I would be remiss in not honoring the day and giving my gratitude to all of the friends in my life - these ladies in the BOB Club, and a few others.
In the early days of our travels, we were a bit younger - 17 years younger to be exact. We spent afair amount of time getting on a first name basis with the staff at the best bar in town, and making our own fun just walking around town and laughing.
Life was and is a party with my friends, and I mean that literally and figuratively.
Now we tend to take everything we need to a location that has everything else we need, and we never leave until our husbands and jobs notice we’ve been gone too long.
Makeup is for suckers and energetic women who are younger than me – that’s my new motto. Makeup doesn’t cover up laugh lines, anyway.
But, just like in the beginning, the closer we get to the trip, the more our text messages resemble those of 14-year-old girls.
I’m almost positive that a tambourine and microphone will make the trip, as well as a blender and other accoutrements.
After 17 years of practical experience we could start a cottage industry, giving classes on how to travel as a group of strong, funny, independent women who can make friends with a tree. Or, a horse as the case may be.
We can pack five women, their luggage, coolers, purses, road snacks, magazines and whatever else we find at the last minute into an SUV for a road trip and still have room for our pre-distination pilgrimmage to the Wal-Mart. Also, we don’t fight.
We are a valuable commodity, folks. I’ll let you know when classes begin.
I don’t want to get all mushy, but happy anniversary, ladies. I love you like sisters.
I look forward to babysitting and serenading a family of captive possums at the lake this weekend.