It's Friday evening, and I’m currently sitting in a club car on an Amtrak train, en route to Donna’s. For roughly what I’d pay in gas and about an hour and a half’s extra travel time, I’ll arrive in Jacksonville relaxed and ready for the weekend ahead.
Taking the train is probably one of my favorite forms of travel. It’s decidedly more laid back, and you aren’t looked upon unfavorably if you wander the train(like the evil death stares you get from flight attendants when you do all that you can to prevent a repeat DVT by walking the cabin). Check in is only a half hour before departure, unlike the two hours the TSA now recommends for air travel. Without fail, all of my trips on Amtrak has netted friendly staff and congenial traveling companions. Your mileage may vary (ask Ed).
Even better, if I want to write (like now), I can find a plug for the laptop and feed the urge to write. Though I notice that the laptop is starting to show wear and tear from being dragged hither and yon. It looks like I dropped in on the front left corner in attaching the bag to my rolling suitcase today. Bummer.
Donna and I have both been looking forward to this weekend. She’s had some stressful months and let’s be honest, the scales are definitely tipped towards the male persuasion in my house. Sometimes you just need girl time.
To whit: since I’ve been home, my nails have grown. A lot. I meant to take a picture earlier this week of the historic occasion of having ten long nails. Giggles is probably laughing at this news, as she inherited mom’s lovely strong nails. Mine shred at the base frequently, probably because I’m not at all dainty (nor is Giggles, for that matter)
If I mentioned going to get a manicure at home, it’d be a solo excursion. In my opinion, that’s the type of thing that you need someone else to accompany you, to share in the experience, to gossip and chit chat. Alas, two of those way too soft for their own good nails have broken. Still, the prospect of having another girl go with me to a nail salon is just too good to pass up. I’m thinking a nice bright pink.
The weekend isn’t going to be all frou frou stuff, though. Donna won some tickets to a Jaguars game, something that’s great for an adrenaline junkie who can’t create her own adrenaline filled activities anymore. Though Chef Jr seems shocked that mom knows anything about football.
His rationalization for this is that I must watch the games when everyone else in the house is sleeping. Most nights find me sleeping on the couch (thank you, RSD). He painted a humorous picture of me waiting until I hear three snoring males and I pop on the TV to whatever channel shows NFL games 24/7.
So, this will the two of us back to our college days and spending time shopping, eating and clubbing. Time marches on, but one thing stays the same-the want of time hanging out with your best girlfriend. No matter what we do, I’ll love every minute of it!