Full Gallop, Full Circle
Yesterday Mrs. Harridan and I met up at McHale's, for burgers and beers, but really, from my perspective, at least, to meet each other. Our husbands tagged along to make sure neither of us pulled the other into a dark alley for a tussle, and to watch the event if we did. We found ourselves with an hour to kill before McHale's opened, and headed to another bar for a drink.
Mrs. Harridan is even more gorgeous in person. She is tall and slender and elegant, and has long red hair and bone structure to rival Dooce's. I spotted her across the street as she approached, cutely (Cutely? Is that a word? I'm still on thin ice from the Bastardized Phonetics Incident!) furrowing her brow like she does in her blog photo. The familiarity set me at ease. Within the first twenty minutes of our meeting, we were complimenting each other on having opted to wear such flattering colors (she was in green, I in red). Halfway through the first drink, we were chatting like old friends about our menstrual cycles while our husbands stuck to polite, socially appropriate topics like architecture and New York City geography. By the end of the evening, we were discussing girls who think that certain sex acts "doesn't count" in terms of virginity (I think by then our husbands were talking about bicycles) and we gave each other a parting hug. The afternoon was significantly better than a number of dates that I've been on.
Mrs. Harridan's old high school friend joined us for lunch. He was funny and sweet, and chatting with them virtually erased any lingering bad associations from my last trip to McHale's. It was very poignant; she was there with her friend, her good, decent old friend from high school, and she and I were becoming new friends. No one sought me out to insult me; instead, relative strangers smiled genuinely and complimented me on my writing and clothing colors. I've written a lot of personal shit on here, and withheld a lot, too, and my new friend understands and sympathizes.
I was still giddy (and a little bit tipsy) as we parted ways in Times Square. It felt so good to lay it all bare and make a new friend in the process. My husband gave me a kiss, and smiled at me, and then we went home.
Mrs. Harridan is even more gorgeous in person. She is tall and slender and elegant, and has long red hair and bone structure to rival Dooce's. I spotted her across the street as she approached, cutely (Cutely? Is that a word? I'm still on thin ice from the Bastardized Phonetics Incident!) furrowing her brow like she does in her blog photo. The familiarity set me at ease. Within the first twenty minutes of our meeting, we were complimenting each other on having opted to wear such flattering colors (she was in green, I in red). Halfway through the first drink, we were chatting like old friends about our menstrual cycles while our husbands stuck to polite, socially appropriate topics like architecture and New York City geography. By the end of the evening, we were discussing girls who think that certain sex acts "doesn't count" in terms of virginity (I think by then our husbands were talking about bicycles) and we gave each other a parting hug. The afternoon was significantly better than a number of dates that I've been on.
Mrs. Harridan's old high school friend joined us for lunch. He was funny and sweet, and chatting with them virtually erased any lingering bad associations from my last trip to McHale's. It was very poignant; she was there with her friend, her good, decent old friend from high school, and she and I were becoming new friends. No one sought me out to insult me; instead, relative strangers smiled genuinely and complimented me on my writing and clothing colors. I've written a lot of personal shit on here, and withheld a lot, too, and my new friend understands and sympathizes.
I was still giddy (and a little bit tipsy) as we parted ways in Times Square. It felt so good to lay it all bare and make a new friend in the process. My husband gave me a kiss, and smiled at me, and then we went home.
Copyright 2005-2010 by Arabella and Trattoria Breve. All rights reserved. 8:02 AM
8 Comments:
Hooray for magic moments and internet friendships becoming real life ones. I rejoice with you. :-)
Now you've gone and made me Junion High jealous!! I wanna meet you guys for beers and good times!
Oh man, now I have to write something at least half as good as your post! Internet is pokey at work (not that I, uh, blog from there or anything ::cough::) so I will use the time wisely.
Mignon, it is our goal to have the BlogHer for the less famous female bloggers happen (who wants to be in charge of a clever catchphrase for this?), and when it does, you will be cordially invited - nay, required. We're thinking island, beach, rum drinks. Whaddya say?
I want to come to the BlogHer event! The Sarcastic Journalist and I met up at a fancy place with golden arches and I was so nervous. We have since met for coffee a couple of times and it is so cool!
I've been thinking of it as "Poor Women's BlogHer," but something a little catchier would be great. Perhaps underneath the logo we could add, "We're not as famous, but we have rum drinks."
Man, that's awesome. I wish I lived close enough to meet for cocktails and girl talk.
And I'm totally down for the lesser known tropical BlogHer.
B-List Blog Chicks:
Just like Dooce with fewer stats
That would be great on a T-shirt!
I love it! The B-List Blog Chicks! That's awesome TB - does anyone know how to make a web ring or some such nonsense that we can all belong to and put the cute little button on our page??
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