they say you can never go home again. this is particularly true when you go away to college at 17 and your mom moves from big house into apartment. not that i ever had any long-term residence during my life. unless you count grandparents' places...came up to syracuse for an old friend's baby shower. co-ed. bbq. this i can hang with. not oohing and ahhing over blankets and pacifiers while women with kids dole out unsolicited baby advice. here there is alcohol. deviled eggs. salt potatoes. backyard. trees. sunshine! (until monsoon like winds/rain bring the party inside.)
the mom-to-be i've known since i was 11. our perm having, hairsprayed big bangs rockin', bad 90's r & b music listening, tight rolled guess? jeans former selves. only the hostess has known her longer.
i exit that party to meet best friend from home. who is having a baby. on monday. i assume we are hanging at her house. oh no! her mom's watching the twins.
we are out to eat and she's having contractions. i know very little of the technical side of pregnancy, so hearing about my friend contracting makes me a bit nervous. but she's a pediatric nurse. so we eat and then go out for dessert.
spend my night away from the bars. the chaos. the gossip mill that is the "downtown" scene. in possibly the most zen house in all of central ny. currently sitting next to a snoring 145 pound great dane. surrounded by buddahs and yoga books.
goodnight.
xoxo mjm
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