Picture it, 1995. Cue Third Eye Blind, Johnny Depp and Ace Ventura. It’s hard for me to grasp that we’ve been out of high school for 17 years now. This weekend us girls got together for our annual ‘girls weekend’. We started this tradition back in 2004, when Britton was a baby {and the only baby of the group} – I remember I even took her with me. You know, first baby when you hated to go anywhere without them.
Many children, and several weddings later- we are now driving from six different cities and 2 states, to enjoy this special time almost every summer. No husbands, no children.

Now, don’t get me wrong, we used to be a wild bunch  We would get together and talk about boyfriends, the ol’ days, stay up until 3 am, order late night pizza, and argue about who can drink the most, who used to kiss the most- and spend the next day laying around reeking of last night’s fun.

Girls Weekend | Seacrest Beach

Now, when we come together, the discussion is more along the lines of deteriorating vision, skin tags, insurance policies, child rearing, divorce, bunions and job stress. It’s real life, with real problems.

But one thing has not changed… and that is the light hearted {some might call it immature} fun that we all have whenever we are together. So while the conversations have changed somewhat, the bonds have only become stronger over the past 25+ years.


Insert immature exhibit A…  Uh hum, Darby

As if we need more proof…

Where’s Waldo? Danya found her glasses from 8th grade. All that’s missing is a neck brace

Moustache girl

Instagramming… during dinner

Posing again, imagine that.

How welcoming it was to get away and have it feel like the old days. To sit on the beach without lathering sunscreen on children first, choose a restaurant without looking at the children’s menu and load up into a without strapping anyone into a carseat.

No more gold bikinis
Although I do recall Erikka calling me while I was driving, on her cell phone from the third row where she sat, asking if we were lost.  And yes, we were. A car full of intelligent women and we just couldn’t seem to find our way back home. Every time.

And so it goes. Another year has come and gone. Everyone is unpacked, back to their ‘real’ lives and we will go back to the occasional phone calls to check in on each other. But come next summer, we will all move mountains, once again, to find our way down memory lane.