With all the madness going on last night, I realized I neglected to tell you about the Committee Meeting last night.
Well. Upon arriving at the restaurant, I immediately order a vodkasprite. Because it is the best drink in the world. Irrelevant.
Anyway, meet up with several fellow high school alums. Engage in casual conversation about things we *might* have in common. More people show up. The kind event planner at the restaurant shows us around, and sells us on the place. Those are all good things. Meanwhile, I am pretty sure I am going to win as Champion, because no one is dressed as well as me, or is as engaged as me (could be the vodkasprite). About half-way through the meeting, my high school frenemy arrives, in all her pregnant glory.
Now, I don't know if you read my last post, but you might say sometimes I don't handle things well. Usually, being around pregnant people is one of those things I might not handle all that well. BUT, to my surprise, I did handle it QUITE well. In fact, so well, I rewarded myself with ANOTHER vodkasprite. Life is good.
For those of you in the know, my pregnant frenemy was a cross between a cute pregnant person, and an incredibly bloated pregnant person (in her defense, she is only 3 weeks from her due date). And she had cankles. Again, life is good.
So the meeting went well, we settled on a location for our reunion shindig, and secured some other plans, and that was all fabulous. Here's where it gets fuzzy. The pregnant frenemy commented on my outfit. MY FABULOUS OUTFIT. I don't remember the exact comment (gah, thanks, vodkasprite), but it wasn't a generic "you look cute". I couldn't tell if it was just a making-conversation-comment, or for-real comment. Anyway. She ended up being dropped off at the venue, and because I am filled with kindness towards others (it's okay, you can laugh), I offered a ride home. We caught up quickly, and it was very nice. Looks like we're still frenemies.
Oh, and I declare myself CHAMPION OF THE COMMITTEE.
Well. Upon arriving at the restaurant, I immediately order a vodkasprite. Because it is the best drink in the world. Irrelevant.
Anyway, meet up with several fellow high school alums. Engage in casual conversation about things we *might* have in common. More people show up. The kind event planner at the restaurant shows us around, and sells us on the place. Those are all good things. Meanwhile, I am pretty sure I am going to win as Champion, because no one is dressed as well as me, or is as engaged as me (could be the vodkasprite). About half-way through the meeting, my high school frenemy arrives, in all her pregnant glory.
Now, I don't know if you read my last post, but you might say sometimes I don't handle things well. Usually, being around pregnant people is one of those things I might not handle all that well. BUT, to my surprise, I did handle it QUITE well. In fact, so well, I rewarded myself with ANOTHER vodkasprite. Life is good.
For those of you in the know, my pregnant frenemy was a cross between a cute pregnant person, and an incredibly bloated pregnant person (in her defense, she is only 3 weeks from her due date). And she had cankles. Again, life is good.
So the meeting went well, we settled on a location for our reunion shindig, and secured some other plans, and that was all fabulous. Here's where it gets fuzzy. The pregnant frenemy commented on my outfit. MY FABULOUS OUTFIT. I don't remember the exact comment (gah, thanks, vodkasprite), but it wasn't a generic "you look cute". I couldn't tell if it was just a making-conversation-comment, or for-real comment. Anyway. She ended up being dropped off at the venue, and because I am filled with kindness towards others (it's okay, you can laugh), I offered a ride home. We caught up quickly, and it was very nice. Looks like we're still frenemies.
Oh, and I declare myself CHAMPION OF THE COMMITTEE.
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