Saturday, April 01, 2006


I'm going to Baltimore tomorrow via the Chinatown bus to see my extremely cool college friend/former roommate, who's a reporter (and homeowner -- I just love that word) there. I'll also see another great friend/former roommate, who's coming all the way from Atlanta, along with two college friends I haven't seen for three years, one of whom I had a teeny-tiny crush on for five seconds during college.

I find that whenever I'm preparing to meet a friend or acquaintance I haven't seen for a while -- male or female -- I go through these incredibly unnecessary and elaborate pre-remeeting preparations: getting my hair cut and highlighted, selecting the appropriate wardrobe, going to the gym, all of that stuff.

For example, my usual weekend wardrobe looks like this:

But I'll probably pack something that looks like this:

I so want to show everyone -- anyone -- that I've somehow made it in NYC. That I know that big sunglasses and peep-toe wedges are in. (Um, they are, right?) That I'm on top of trends, and movin' and shakin' whatever you move and shake when you're successful.

But do my friends care? Nope. And that's why they're so amazing. In the city, especially, I've noticed that people have friends who are around for the shopping, the booze, the media contacts, the coolness factor, and even the drugs. But my friends have stuck by me and listened when all I could talk about is Evil E (my ex) and how wonderful the two of us could have been, and they've stuck by me and listened when I finally managed to score the sought-after New York trifecta: an NYC job, apartment, and boyfriend -- ALL AT THE SAME TIME. I feel lucky and blessed to have them.

So, Orioles, here I come. For a night, anyway.


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