My Girls

Sometimes life gets in the way of the really important things.

No, I'm not referring to foie gras, or truffles, or even cheese. Although, all wildly important.

I'm talking about friends. In my case, my girlfriends. The four ladies who know me better than I know myself - in good times and bad. My "crew." My "the Sex in the City gals have nothin' on us" pals.

Until Friday night I had no idea that I was missing them. I mean, I was actually SEEING them - but it was really in fits and starts, when we all were showing up with smiles on our faces instead of reality on our lips.

But suddenly, at Stacie's b-day celebration at Joe's Pub, bad days, crazy jobs, difficult men and maddening family all came to head in the form of furtive glances between me and my three gals.

Sadly, b-day and friendly furtive glances aside, Stacie had to skidaddle after the 7:30pm set.

It was up to Joy, Jenn and I to start speaking truths.

And everyone knows that truth is better when accompanied with spirits.

On to Temple Bar we marched. Ensconced in a quiet corner table, one round of cocktails and three bowls of addictive popcorn later, the three of us were letting loose talking about our frustrations - petty and not - and challenges -big and small. Another round of drinks were ordered, a few more bowls of popcorn downed. Analysis of our daily traumas continued.

Then it hit me: Our shoulders were much more relaxed then at the onset of the evening. Our smiles were more genuine. Our laughter more organic.

By the time we pulled ourselves away at 1am, I realized that we had chatted ourselves into a happy cluster. We were women - hear us roar.

Now, we all live in NYC, so there was no way this sisterhood exultation was going to last past 2am. But right then and there we were a club. The gals. Us. We three. The ladies.

Gives ladies' night a whole new meaning, doesn't it?