1928 Cleneay 2k6 Reunion (almost)

It had been nearly 16 months since I saw her, but when I walked into the lobby of the Crowne Plaza and saw her drinking her 3rd glass of Sauvignon Blanc, it was as if no time at all had passed.

Beven and I only had the weekend to catch up, but it was a lovely reminder that when you have good good friends, there's no such thing as catching up, only picking up where you've left off. I was instantly transported back in time, to our 3-story den of iniquity in Cincinnati, where the beer flowed like wine and weekends were spent in a haze of broccoli-cheddar soup from Panera and bleary-eyed afternoons spent watching Sex And The City on HBO on Demand.

1928 Cleneay was a place where girls could get together to discuss important topics like Explosive Diarrhea, where sweatpants where haute couture and nobody CARED that your socks would be black from walking across our filthy carpet. We had transcended the boundaries of human cleanliness.

Yes, seeing Beven again was like taking a break from reality and jumping right back into my past. Was it just a coincidence that I woke up on Saturday with the worst hangover I've had since college graduation?

You be the judge.

It's a picture of someone taking a picture. Taken by someone who was having her picture taken by the person in the picture. It's very postmodern.

Times Square! Holllerrrr!

Sober on the subway...

And getting there...

...aaaaand over.

We spent Saturday in true style, laying in the living room in sweats and dirty ponytails, eating the cold bagel sandwiches we couldn't choke down hours earlier and drinking large amounts of Diet Coke, leaving the house for some shopping and wrapping up the day with some pizza and a movie. It was a different kind of time travel, the kind that only happens when you have the kind of girlfriends that I do, girls who don't let silly things like time and distance get in the way of a great friendship.

Seriously, just what I needed.