Still Crazy After All These Years

Julie, Cathy, and I got together this past weekend for the first time in over thirteen years. The heavens opened, angels lit up some weed, and the Lord rejoiced every time we undressed.

The Lord and Julie’s neighbor. (One and the same. Right, Steve?)

In other words, all was right with the world.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to noticing some serious changes between then and now, between yesterday’s troublemakers and today’s responsible grown-ups.

Here’s what I noticed…

Bad sign.

Then – No single men outside a liquor store.
Now – “Don’t flush – we are all out of water!” handwritten on a piece of paper and taped to the wall in a rest area just south of Sarasota.

Music and men.

Then – Cathy and I date guys like this and know all the words to their theme song.

Now – Cathy and I *pretend* to forget the words thanks to a jagermeister marathon in ’92. Julie still wonders how many cavities are in the lead singer’s head.

No sense of direction.

Then – Takes us five years to declare a major.
Now – Takes us five hours to get out of southeast Florida.

Our evening routine.

Then – Leave for Masquerade at midnight. Katie gets kicked out for worst fake ID ever. Sits outside with bouncers and talks politics until they let her back in. Greet sunrise with a 12-incher cause 1) that’s how Cathy’s boyfriends roll, 2) Subway stays open late for the rest of us and gives away free extra pickles. Katie gets kicked out for demanding dolphin-safe tuna.

Now – Everyone stops drinking at 7pm in order to take vitamins and compare varicose veins. In bed by 9:30pm.

Secrets.

Then – Cathy loves Rob Lowe even though it makes her officially uncool.
Now – Cathy plays Canasta Tournaments even though it makes her officially uncool.

Favorite lines.

Then – Katie: “I don’t mean to be mean, but no.”
Now – Katie: “I don’t care if I’m being mean, hell no.”

Alienating others.

Then – Julie yells at drivers who throw their cigarettes out the window, “The world is not your ashtray!”
Now – Julie invites Marcia to the party.

In another thirteen years, we’ll get together with our pill boxes, compare age spots and laugh our asses off just like we always do.

Julie says she’ll bring the Xanax.

I’m so in.