On Friday I babysat for Dorie's kids (whom I'm not naming by name to avoid the possibility of them googling themselves... kids are so freakin' wired, it's ridiculous). I've talked about Dorie before, but for any newbies, the deal is that she and her husband have lived across the street from my parents for eleven years, so they basically moved in right when I was leaving for college. She and I have discussed the absurdity of how I lived in that house for a jillion years and she moved into the neighborhood right when I was moving out, but honestly, because of the age gap between us (about fifteen years), we probably wouldn't have been close friends back then. I mean, it would've been hard for a 33-year-old to meet an 18-year-old and form a significant relationship.
Anyway, in the years since they've moved in they've had two kids (now 8 and 7, to whom my parents are godparents) and the whole crew has become family to my family. As an only child I should probably say something sweet and corny like, sniff, I always wanted a sister. I never really did, though. But having a surrogate one has turned out to be great. Plus she and my mom bicker so much that I end up looking like the perfect daughter.
So on Friday her son and I picked up her daughter from basketball. I tease Dorie that she's raising Popular Kids, because they're both gorgeous and athletic. The boy is going to start playing lacrosse next year, for cryin' out loud; I see Duke and stockbroking in his future. I love my nights with them, because I get to be a soccer (or basketball) mom... and then I get to say goodbye and go home. One of them wanted to get a pizza at Papa Gino's and the other one wanted to go to Pizza Express and it was such A Big Deal that you'd think, from their faces, that the ensuing coin toss to decide between the two should've happened in slow motion with Chariots of Fire theme song playing in the background. (Papa won, and the disgruntled party settled for scraping the excess tomato sauce off their slices with a spoon.)
At one point Dorie called me, in that two-and-a-half-margaritas happy place:
Her: You know what's so funny? I'm at the Cactus Club and you're home with my kids!
Me: Wait, you mean you wanted me to stay with the kids until you got home?
Her: I'm out and you're home! It's like we switched lives! Ha ha ha!
Me: Do you call all your babysitters and say this?
When they got home, Dorie and I stayed up talking late, and I rolled across the street at about 3 AM to sleep in my old bedroom. It's very counterintuitive to stroll into my parents' house obscenely late; I still have that 16-year-old mentality of feeling like I should be creeping silently up the stairs and hoping that I don't have any hickeys or smell like Marlboro Lights.
On Saturday I went to see The Holiday with Sarah. I loved it! It was a perfectly executed chick flick, all marshmallow fluff and cuteness... the cinematic equivalent of the honey in the plastic teddy bear. But because nothing normal ever happens to me, I got to the theater before Sarah, got in line to get our tickets, and the guy in front of me inexplicably asked for about fifty gift cards, each of which had to be stamped or initialed or something by the guy behind the counter, and everyone involved in this mindfuck took their sweet ass time, despite the growing line and my silent fury. Sarah arrived ten minutes later, got in another line, and I ended up jumping ship to her line because she got tickets faster.
That night I had dinner with Mardi and her friend Kathy, and then Mardi and I went to the Tree. Sarah met up with us later. All I can say is that hilarity ensued, our night ended at about 4 AM, and today I slept until 1:30 in the afternoon, which I haven't done since college.
And now Christmas is right around the corner! How did that happen? Things are getting very giddy up giddy up giddy up let's go. I still have to finish my cards and I THINK I've finished all my shopping. I know I'm ready to be done with work until the new year, so I'm just marking time this week. But I can't wait to start scoring snowman candles and "Teachers Build the Future" paperweights from my kids, all of whom are already psychotic with the anticipation of Santa.
Oh, like I'm not. He always brings me products.