Girl's Weekend In

With hubby away, I decided that I wanted to spend the weekend at home, but didn't fancy being alone. So I called in reinforcements, in the form of my friend Gila. Gila and I met through a mutual friend about a year ago, and hit it off right away. We have the same sense of humor, fashion style and if I was still single, would be hitting the scene as Gila's partner in crime. However, I'm content to read about her dating escapades, and planned on spending a fun weekend giggling and gossiping. I got a bit of a preview with my first phone call to Gila. (Note: Gila's roomate is a male friend of hers, they are not a couple):

Me: Gila, do you want to spend Shabbat with me? Hubby is away, so you'll sleep over and we'll find meals together - sound good?

Gila: Oooh, it'll be so much fun, cause you don't live with a girl either!!! We'll get to do all the stuff female roomates would do.

Me: Gils, I'm married. It's a bit different.

Fast forward to Friday afternoon, where I was shopping for weekend snacks which would be appropriate for aforementioned diet. Gila calls to let me know what time she'll be over:

Me: By the way, I hope you like strawberries and passion fruit, I'm stocking up on snacks for Shabbat. I'm trying to lose weight, and have thrown out all the nosh and crap.

Gila: Ooooh, I love strawberries!!! I'll bring Nutella, it's a great combo.

Fast forward to our walk home. I had brought walking shoes, as my stilletos were not appropriate for a 30 minute teeter home, and we had eaten fairly far from my apartment. The walking shoes are very comfortable, but have a slippery heel which I keep meaning to take to a cobbler to get some rubber put onto. As Gila and I had both consumed a fair amount of wine, we linked arms for the walk home as girls often do, as well as providing a necessary support system. But the wine and slippery heels won, and I found myself on the pavement at one stage, laughing hysterically. Gila was sure that serious damage had been done, but after assuring here that my winter weight gain had finally paid off in the form of instrumental padding, we continued home. I slipped and slid a few more times, but Gila kept me upright. After we got back and were changing into pajamas, I somehow got a bit tangled up in the bedroom curtains, which are too long and which I've been meaning to shorten for some time. To make a long story short, I experienced deja vu as I found myself flat out on the floor, lauging hystrically. Gila wasn't sure if I would be allowed to walk anywhere else for the rest of the evening, but I assured her I was fine, and we went to bed.

I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and as I was making my way down the pitch black hall, I suddenly heard a voice...

Gila: Where are you going?

Aliza: To the bathroom.

Gila: Do you need any help?

Aliza: No, I think I can pee on my own, but thanks.

Gila: Oh, I thought you might be going to throw up or something.

Aliza: Gila, we went to bed 4 hours ago, and I wasn't even drunk.

Gila: Oh, g'nite then.

Suffice to say, it was a fantastic weekend, as Gila had mercifully forgotten the verbal diarrhea which I'd been spewing on the walk home, and I had fun hearing about her dating life. She's a great girl and phenomenal friend, and I'm so lucky to have her around to spice up my life. Hopefully hubby won't be leaving me for shabbat any time soon, but I have a feeling that Gila and I may need to have another girl's weekend together... somewhere where they serve cocktails with little umbrellas... But that will have to be another post.