Siddity In The City

I love my friends.

I'm chatting with TDMM on the phone tonight and talk turns to our next trip to Chicago. She says she's been thinking about our drinking and has a plan for the trip. My heart is gripped by fear. See, we've been doing a bit of fitness buddying lately and had just been talking about our diets and new personal trainers and the relative merits of eating better, working out more, feeling fitter, etc. I was afraid she'd had one of those obsessive diet epiphanies, the kind that leads women like Gwyneth Paltrow to send back cups of tea that smell like they might have held coffee, or leads the Zellweger girl to tote around travel mugs of decaf soy lattes to sip while giving interviews in restaurants so they won't have to risk ingesting anything that may cause them to bloat, swell, ripple or whatever it is they worry about. I was afraid she was going to say, with all this work we're doing, all this effort, let us not ruin it with booze. But drinky drink is, like, a third of the point of vacations, isn't it? Isn't it? The partying? Is my friend turning into one of those crazy joyless skinny women?!?!?! Is she really hoping I'll go to Chicago and spend six hours a day standing in the sun, listening to obscure blues, in a floppy hat with goofy hair because why bother getting it done to stand around in sweltering Chicago heat in a floppy hat, only to end the day with, what? A salad and a single white wine spritzer?!?!?!?! Could she? Gripped by fear. Beat. Beat. Beat. "So I've been thinking, I can fill a thermos with Grey Goose and a splash of cranberry juice concentrate, and then we can buy diet 7Ups and have delicious drinks at the BluesFest!" she says merrily. I fucking love my friends.

posted by Sid @ 5/17/2005 12:42:00 AM