Sisterhoood of the Travelling Bathing Suits, Part 1
Sorry to disappear. We've been out of town. I didn't mention it because, well, because I didn't think I was going.
It went sort of like this:
Conversation #1 [a month or so ago]
Renaissance Woman: You know how you were going to take Mermaid Girl to Los Angeles that weekend in June? Well, the Girls' families [three girls who MG's known since she was a baby, actually really since before she was born, when RW took prenatal yoga with their moms and the four of them became friends despite other differences, yes, just like in Sisterhooood of the Traveling Paants] are all renting yurts on the coast that weekend, and it just feels like we should be there too. We can sleep in the van. They hardly ever all get together any more, and I want them to keep that bond.
Me: Grumble, sulk, wanted to see my uncle, meet Anna, go to the beach...fine, okay, I can see it's important to you.
Conversation #2 [between then and last week, repeated several times]
RW: So, do you want to come with us to the coast in June?
Me: I dunno, I like having the house to myself, I'm not that social, I always feel like the outlier with the Girls' Club moms, and the dads are guys, and I hate getting sand in my feet, maybe I'll stay home and read. Or go to L.A. by myself...hmm...checking airfares...okay, maybe I'll stay home and read. And do housework!
Conversation #3 [Thursday evening]
RW: So, are you coming with us tomorrow? I'm getting off work early. You don't have any classes in the afternoon, right?
Me: I probably better not. It's the end of the school year, summer reading lists are kicking my butt, the used book sale starts right at the beginning of next week and I have to get it set up, I'd just be stressing out the whole weekend.
RW: It's the real ocean! You're always complaining about being so far from the real ocean. [This is true. Seattle appears to be vaguely on the Pacific Ocean if you glance casually at a map of the U.S., but hah! Hours and hours of driving in real life. Puget Sound, to me, is not the Real Ocean and does not count.] But if you don't want to go, you shouldn't go.
Me: Let me see how it goes tomorrow morning. I'll pack a bag just in case. I guess. Do you think I'll get to have any time alone?
RW: It'll be a pretty social weekend.
Me: *stashing weekend bag next to work bag* I probably won't go.
Conversation #4 [Friday morning, via email]:
Me: I can go!!! Volunteers came to help with the book sale! I'm feeling more sociable! The real ocean! I can take three hours of personal time! Wouldn't get anything done at home anyway!
Can you pick me up at work after lunch on your way out?
To Be Continued...
It went sort of like this:
Conversation #1 [a month or so ago]
Renaissance Woman: You know how you were going to take Mermaid Girl to Los Angeles that weekend in June? Well, the Girls' families [three girls who MG's known since she was a baby, actually really since before she was born, when RW took prenatal yoga with their moms and the four of them became friends despite other differences, yes, just like in Sisterhooood of the Traveling Paants] are all renting yurts on the coast that weekend, and it just feels like we should be there too. We can sleep in the van. They hardly ever all get together any more, and I want them to keep that bond.
Me: Grumble, sulk, wanted to see my uncle, meet Anna, go to the beach...fine, okay, I can see it's important to you.
Conversation #2 [between then and last week, repeated several times]
RW: So, do you want to come with us to the coast in June?
Me: I dunno, I like having the house to myself, I'm not that social, I always feel like the outlier with the Girls' Club moms, and the dads are guys, and I hate getting sand in my feet, maybe I'll stay home and read. Or go to L.A. by myself...hmm...checking airfares...okay, maybe I'll stay home and read. And do housework!
Conversation #3 [Thursday evening]
RW: So, are you coming with us tomorrow? I'm getting off work early. You don't have any classes in the afternoon, right?
Me: I probably better not. It's the end of the school year, summer reading lists are kicking my butt, the used book sale starts right at the beginning of next week and I have to get it set up, I'd just be stressing out the whole weekend.
RW: It's the real ocean! You're always complaining about being so far from the real ocean. [This is true. Seattle appears to be vaguely on the Pacific Ocean if you glance casually at a map of the U.S., but hah! Hours and hours of driving in real life. Puget Sound, to me, is not the Real Ocean and does not count.] But if you don't want to go, you shouldn't go.
Me: Let me see how it goes tomorrow morning. I'll pack a bag just in case. I guess. Do you think I'll get to have any time alone?
RW: It'll be a pretty social weekend.
Me: *stashing weekend bag next to work bag* I probably won't go.
Conversation #4 [Friday morning, via email]:
Me: I can go!!! Volunteers came to help with the book sale! I'm feeling more sociable! The real ocean! I can take three hours of personal time! Wouldn't get anything done at home anyway!
Can you pick me up at work after lunch on your way out?
To Be Continued...
posted by elswhere | 7:55 AM
1 Comments:
I don't do well with "couple" outings either. My Beloved has many straight male motorcycle and golf friends and whenever it's a 4 some I end up struggleing with conversation with their wives. We usually have nothing in common other than that we are female.
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