GNO-Old School Style

Last weekend H had his annual fantasy baseball draft. It's part of the reason I chose that weekend to head to my parents, beyond the extreme curiosity about their new place. I don't like being home when he shuffles in partly hungover and whining about all the crap food he ate all weekend. That and I always feel a bit resentful and jealous that his friends still do such things.

That brings me to the point of today. Why is it ladies that we get married, have kids and that inner fun girl just says, "I'm out." She shrivels up and dies. Unless your sister is having a bachelorette party your kicky heels don't see the light of day again until the tot takes them out of the closet themself and decides to give them a whirl. I did just get a bit Carrie Bradshaw on your ass but I don't care. Maybe it's just me, but each time H has a guys weekend it goes pretty much the same way.

Friday night is happy hour (working women might still get a chance at this), then they all crash somewhere. Saturday, hung over and still sleepy, they hang out in their shorts and scratch themselves while shooting the shit and wait for the draft to begin. The draft ensues. Wings and cheesesteaks will be involved as well as dip spit and ciggies. Though I don't see any of H's friends saying, "Hey! Pass me a ciggie would you?" After that whole sports mish mash is over they go out. They get themselves all cleaned up and they smell nice once again. They have a nice dinner out and then hit the bars. It's at this point that the whiney, five year old brat in me comes out and petulantly shouts, "I want to go too!" It didn't help that this past weekend some wives were involved in the going out on Saturday thing while I was at my parents holding a screaming in your face T.D. until 11 p.m. Bedtime? Normally 7 p.m. I was in agony.

I'm happy that H has these weekends with his friends. I think it's great that they still get together and do this. It just begs me to ask why on earth my friends don't. I still want all that! I'm not dead! I have tried on numerous occasions to set this stuff up and it always fails. We go to some chain restaurant where the mundane feeling starts to creep in. Half of us are dressed up and the other still in what we wore all week. Pooh on that. That is total crap ladies. I don't accept it anymore. We need this type of stuff, minus the nut scratching, to feel alive, know ourselves and our limits once more and yes, to feel sexy.

I'm grumbling away this morning and I don't care. I hate that the only time I ever get to go out like this is with my spouse. I miss dancing. I miss the getting ready and knowing I look good. I think most of all though I miss that side of my friends.