There are some weekends that begin at 5pm on a Friday, chock full of plans and yet you have no idea what to expect. This was one of those weekends.
It was a weekend that involved showing up only 30 minutes before the spa closed but convincing them to give you and your friend pedicures over which you discussed work, online dating, Christmas, trips to Mexico and the Sookie Stackhouse books. The conversation was furthered over a yumalicious dinner at Chevy’s and laughing about memories long past.
It was a weekend that came with an early-rise on Saturday morning so we (myself, Darling, Dad) could attend the Wreath-Making class that has become a holiday tradition for three years and counting. We wore Chri-Cheesy garland in our hair, sap on our hands, and Christmas songs on our lips as we made our own holiday wreaths. (You can view my wreath here. More on the class coming soon.) It was a weekend that found me getting hit on (flattering) with a bad pick-up line (“I wanted to smell the pine,”) and teaching me that I’m so not ready to be approached/flirted with/even think about flirting. It was a weekend that a Christmas ornament spoke to me: a heart, made out of recycled materials. Dad bought it for me.
It was a weekend full of delicious fried chicken from a local StL restaurant that has become part of the wreath-making tradition. Of strangers asking us if we are in a club as we failed to remove the Chri-Cheesy garland from our hair. Of running into people from our past.
It was a weekend of baking S’More brownies, trolling the Target aisles for my favorite things gift bag for the party hosted by the always lovely Jen where I got to hang out with Liz and making new friends. Of deer dashing out into the road in front of me. Of sharing past dating stories with a captive audience of married women; I dare say I felt a bit like Carrie Bradshaw, just for a moment, while telling those stories.
It was a weekend of intense rain and thunderstorms spent by a fire, of naps in the afternoon, of delicious leftovers and family moments. It was a weekend of sharing text messages with my cousins Gummie and Van that made me laugh, smile and wish with all my heart that we lived closer to one another.
It was a weekend of getting 95% of my Christmas shopping done without any major run-ins with crowds, looking at Christmas lights (even the unexpected ones), eating more Mexican food (I can’t get enough), and prolonging the weekend as long as possible by watching a Muppet Christmas Carol, writing more holiday cards, and looking through old photo albums of Christmases past, missing loved ones no longer with us and looking forward to making new memories.
It was a weekend of surprising myself with my own strength. Of being caught off guard when tears pricked my eyes for no apparent reason. Of loving the things I received in my “favorite things,” basket. Of not thinking about work, not even once. Of being surrounded by love, family and friends. Of wearing slouchy boots for the first time and loving them. Of being me, perhaps for the first time in awhile.