Last night I reconnected with some old friends.

Old associates.

Old people that I used to get high and drunk with at a time when I could get high and drunk and it not affect the household.

Those folks I used to fuck with (and in some cases fuck) while I was in my 20’s.

This is truly a case of….you can not go home again.

There were other things I could have – and in hindsight think that I SHOULD have gone to last night.  I could have gone to the birthday party of a current friend who I have much more in common with these days than my old ‘squad’.   I chose the ‘squad’ reunion though.

It was a chance to re-visit my footloose and fancy free days.  It was a chance to be with old girlfriends.  It was a chance to be within WALKING distance of The Man.

I didn’t know when I agreed to go to the party that The Man would have other things that needed to be done, I just thought, all things being equal I would rather be closer to The Man.

But I went anyhow.

The first clue that I was not thrilled was that even knowing I was taking the bus there, I didn’t leave until after 9, for the get together that started @ 8.   The second clue that I was not thrilled is that I wore scrub pants.  Nothing says I could not give a fuck about me MORE than my unwillingness to put on actual pants.

My bestie picked me up from the El, and we traveled to the destination, and my next clue that I was over it, was that I didn’t feel ‘happy’ to see anyone.

I was not annoyed to see my girls that I used to run with, and I was happy that of the numerous men who could have popped up had not when we got there….but I was not ‘happy’ to be there.

I walked through and gave my obligatory hugs and shit but whatever.

I think that part of it is  that when I walked into the house only a few of the ORIGINAL SQUAD were there.  No not ALL of us could make it….but there were people there who were not in the ‘core’ group.

When I think about the core group, I think about the night of Darrin’s  housewarming party.  Sure there were some missing that night, but that is the ORIGINAL SQUAD.  Walking in to Kema & her sister & some other dudes who’s names I did not know was NOT SQUAD.

The Squad & I pretty much hung out in the back and laughed at the MASSIVE amount of photos that Tone had brought out.

I want to know where he kept that shit, why he still has that shit, and where he stores it so that I can burn the evidence.  Seriously, there is some ‘incriminating’ stuff out there.  I also want to know where he found a VCR but I digress…..

As the tapes of Ski trips past played on the big screen, I looked around the room.  It was interesting to see that, the men were happy to stare at old pics of big asses and the women seemed bored out of their fucking skulls.

By the time Shakina rolled in I was beyond ready to go.  At least she didn’t try to pretend like we were friends, and tried to hug me.  She’s a lot of things but a stupid bitch ain’t one of them.

It was ironic funny though…the guys that I think of as SQUAD, seemed just as disinterested as my girls.

I think we the real SQUAD realize, we are all around 40, we all have kids, we all have lives and jobs, and while our 20’s were hot to death, we were simply too OLD to be attempting to hang on to the memories of the way we were.

We left not all that long after we got there.  There was a situation that we needed to address, and when we did?  We went to the casino.  Harrah’s in Chester.  How’s that for some old folk shit for that ass?

I came out a couple of dollars richer than when I walked in, and it was gravy for me.

What I needed and appreciated about last night was spending time with my bestie.

I’ve missed having her here in Philly. I also understand that we may NEVER live in the same city again.  But I will always be ride or die for her ALWAYS.

And it was cool enough just to see her for more than 30 seconds in the door.

We were our old silly selves, who got each other’s jokes, and seemed to be in a contest to see who could use the word fuck more in a sentence.

But that is who we ARE!  Two no nonsense grown assed women on their grinds holding down home who occasionally have a beer and get silly.

She’s a sister to me, and I am to her, and I have proof:

At the end of the night, after being up for 24 hours, and being in the casino sipping the happy air they pump into the room, we rode home.

We made the same jokes at the same songs, had the same sentiments about much of the night before us, were both tired as shit because  we have major responsibility, and can just laugh out loud sometimes.

My bestie, Carla, has the corniest joke ever known to man in her head every time she drops me off @ my front door:  “Go Straight Home”.

Last night I decided I was gonna   show her!

I hopped out of the car and proceeded to run up my neighbor’s steps!

Straight home my ass! I am a grown woman!

You should think to yourself, have you been awake for  24 hours?  Have you had a beer after being alcohol free for MULTIPLE MONTHS?  Are your pants falling down as you are trying to run up steps that are not familiar to you?  Are your breasts BIGGER than they were 5 months ago, and could they possibly fuck up your balance?

Those are important questions to ask if you are trying to be a smart ass.

If you do not ask those questions, you end up first stumbling, then running stumbling, then falling, then sliiiiiiiiding along your neighbor’s concrete and through their puddle from watering the lawn only hours before.

Your ciabata sandwich from WaWa will go flying and your keys will end up in the rose bush.

You will be thankful that it is 5am so there are fewer folk out, but you are also positive that you will end up seeing yourself on YouTube in just a few hours.

The thing about best friends though?  They will ask if you are okay…..then wait until they get home to fall into fits of hysterical laughter.

My bestie has been there for some of the best falls ever in my existence.  I am quite clumsy and fall a lot.

My fall last night was even more hilarious than the time I fell out of the Chevy Blazer trying to hide from an ex, or the day that Adrienne fell over the traffic cone trying to say hi to Lord Tariq & Peter Gunz.

That fall just a few hours ago is the shit legends are made of – for real.

But the only one to see it – was SQUAD – and what we do is what we do.  What happens with us – stays with us.

Until at least we gather again in a year for a game of questions at which point I will need a good defense lawyer.