What makes for a good girls weekend?
I used to think among the top key ingredients was good drinks. Now, I'm not so sure about that, although good drinks do add certain level of entertainment to the mix. But in a pinch, like say pregnancy, good drinks aren't really a necessity.
Good food? Definitely.
Good friends? Obviously.
Good conversations? For sure.
This afternoon I was thinking about the weekend I recently spent with my dear friends, Lisa and Molly while lounging in the sun and floating the days away at my parents' lake house. We didn't do a whole lot. Aside from the requisite eat, eat more and while you're at it, eat a little more, fall asleep watching Lifetime movies and act inappropriately with swimming noodles, we mostly vegged out.
But one afternoon while on the boat I posed a question to my dear friends and was met with overwhelming reassurance that caught me by surprise. The topic? Spider veins.
I've got 'em. I've had 'em since I was in middle school, I think. They're on the outside of my thighs, right above my knees. And the more pregnant I get, the less attractive they become. And what's worse? They've spread to the inside of my thighs. Pretty soon they are going to meet in the middle and form a barbed wire tattoo of veinage.
But you know what? They've got 'em too!! My mother says it's from crossing my legs too much. She suggested I stop and see if they disappear. Right, Mom. She also reminded me that her's were so bad at one time that she had them lasered off (come to find out that Molly's mom did this, too!). They of course came back, those little bastards. It was about this time that she gave me the bad news that spider veins are genetic. Big butt? check. Double chin? check. Spider veins? check that one of as well.
But the point is, without girls weekends, how would you know that spider veins are perfectly normal in your mid-twenties? If it weren't for good friends and being trapped in a lycra nightmare, I probably would've waited another decade to pose a question like this to a group of women.
But not dear friends. Because dear friends don't just comfort you when you're down, they join right in and commiserate with you:)