After the kebobs were consumed, S. and G. headed off into the night. L. and I, on the other hand, sat out on the deck and drank honey bourbon and gingerale and played Scrabble and talked about important things. At some point L. texted me about somethingerother, and it was decided that L. and I would join L. Ok, that's really confusing. Let's call them N.L. and P.L. (New York vs Philadelphia). So we would joing P.L. at McCrossens. It was hopping when we finally arrived. And everyone was in great spirits. T. looks a little red faced and close-eyed, but here we are.
N.L. continues to be an excellent photo bomber. Me and P.L., still not a couple.
I asked L. what this was about...she couldn't tell me.
Sometimes I look like this. It's hard to tell in most of these photos, but I'm rocking some serious glitter. In fact, at least two people started to refer to me as sparkles. I acted offended. But I wasn't.
The two L.s in the same place at the same time. Crazy.
Me. Me. Me.
Here you can see the sparkles a little. On Facebook I've said that this photograph represents rather accurately how I feel on the inside a majority of the time: scared, worried and convinced that the world is silently judging me. Yep. But at least I look good doing it. What? Also, this photograph makes it look like I have a huge head and tiny shoulders. I don't think that's accurate.
Here I made N.L. and P.L. stand as if I was in the photo...at the time I thought it would be great if then they photoshopped a photograph of me from Jamaica into the shot. Now I think that would be a lot of work.
Good thing we did a regular photo too. Thanks to L. for all the above shots.
Though we had eaten our fair share of kebobs, we still ended up eating the fabulous french fries and some of their wings. L. who, like me, is not an avid lover of wings, complimented them for both taste and size. They are quite generous.
Friends. Daughters. Wives. For life. Hopefully.