My Crew, My Ladies, My Broads

It took more than two hours before we started talking about periods last night. And no pillow fights in our underwear. Just some of my girls over for a little food, alcohol and a lot of conversation and I think it was exactly what we all needed.

I have always wanted a close group of friends. In high school I had an eclectic mix of friends over all the grades, from theater, forensics, classes and other after school stuff, but I didn't have one cohesive group of friends. I bounced around. I always had a few solid people I could count on, but I never felt like a part of one tight group. And I always wanted that. I think most people do, at least most teenagers.

 

Then college rolled around. I worked as a resident assistant (RA) at KU and simply based on the interview process and minor level of delusion and gumption required to take on this kind of job, I found myself smack in the middle of a group of people that were fantastic. Smart, funny, hard working (usually) and with the ability to find and possibly ignore the smell of pot on eight separate floors. I had found my people. (And future husband. Score!)

Through that job I met a good majority of my oldest and best friends. Housing brought us together. And through those new friends there were more new friends, who were also ridiculously witty and irreverent and sharp.

Now at 35 those KU housing friends are some of my best friends. We've stayed close, through out of state moves and career changes and kids and marriages and life in general. And the women in that group, some of the original RA's, some spouses and some family, we make an effort to stay connected on our own, get together and gossip and eat greasy stuff and drink and talk about crazy in-laws, and bossy kids, and our dreams and career goals and struggles.

And I think these women help keep me sane. They make me laugh. They listen to my rambling and ridiculous stories. I relish the few hours we sneak away from our husbands and kids and responsibilities and we just sit around like we are still 20. Though I have to admit, recovering from the three vanilla vodka drinks I consumed last night was a little harder than when I was 20. It was totally worth it.