today I was having a stressful day. A day in which if I could rewind a year I would text my three best friends and we would all hang out that night. A day that this hangout would probably have already been planned prior to my bad day happening.
I decided to inform my friends as such.
Me (to Laura and two friends): Today is the kind of day that I want to come to you all.
Laura: awe boo boo! Today’s the kind of day I might shit my pants.
Not quite the same sentiment.
This moment reminded me of Laura’s disdain for feeling “greasy.”
While sitting in the Cheers bar Laura decided that everyone looked, “cheesy.” She wouldn’t elaborate more. But just kept repeating, “look at them. They’re just cheesy.”
I associate this impassioned description with her cheese withdrawals from the weekend.
Now that our first reunion is complete we have turned our attention to possible locations for next year.
One friend suggested a gay cruise.
Laura chimed in quickly with, “Are there gay cruises?…Is that the Disney cruise?”
We made a pit stop at the original Cheers bar in Boston.
In this bar there is a painting of Lord Byron.
Laura was fascinated by this painting…for no evident reason.
Our conversations kept being redirected to him. Refusing to use her smartphone to look up who he was she took to her personal memory bank to recall why she knew his name.
“Who is Lord Byron and why do I know him? I think he went to my high school.”
The jury is still out on the logistical feasibility of this.
Last weekend when my friends were visiting one of them somehow superseded Laura as the most ridiculous one of the bunch.
In a text message conversation this was discussed:
Friend #1: I’m a disaster
Laura: Yuuuuup
Friend #2: Enjoy your time off, Laura, from being the mess of the group.
Friend #1: I’ll gladly assume that role!
Me: Laura, you’ve been promoted from the clown of the group! What will you do with your new position?
Laura: What?? Is this a red hair joke?
Guess we spoke too soon.
Walking through the Boston Common Laura sees a squirrel digging.
She quickly assumes it is burying something.
Not wanting the squirrel to think it is being stealth, Laura yells, “I know where you put it!”
While the aforementioned sandwich was being consumed at lightning speed in my car, one friend informed Laura, “you’re going to smell like tuna.”
Her response?
“Well, I’m on my period. So yes.”
When we were headed to pick up Laura we stopped at Whole Foods to get lunch. I asked Laura what she would like us to bring her.
She ordered a tuna salad sandwich with cheddar cheese and mustard.
Which is possibly the most vile combination of anything you could put on a sandwich. Nevermind for a vegan to have to purchase.
Nonetheless we retrieved said sandwich for Laura and headed to the bus station to pick her up. As we pulled up she came running to the car. Before I could even exit the car to hug her she greeted me with, “where’s my sandwich?”
Priorities.
