A Horse is A Horse

IzzyMom and my mother conspired to get me lost the other night in Tampa. I swear. It was one of those outings where, in a series of misunderstandings and construction, I ended up over a bay headed to an entirely different city. I also ended up at the wrong mall and spent an extra 20 minutes getting home due to roads being closed and freeways down to one lane.

Of course there was much laughter…how can I spend an evening with the amazing Izzy and not laugh all night long. She was the perfect company for one of those barley pay attention to your food gab sessions that goes until you close the place down and the valet has to come find you to give you your keys because even he’s going home.

I know when bloggers meet up they end up blogging it…and we all gush and blah blah blah. But can I just say…Izzy makes me want to be a lesbian. That’s how much I love her. I want to sleep with her AND be her best friend forever.

Seriously (warning, mushy coming) I think the best part of the night might have been when we were outside of the restaurant talking about all of you. Not YOU as in YOU YOU, but YOU as in, our friends. In fact, I think we both got teary talking about the wonderful friends we’ve made and how they’ve helped up through some pretty shitty times. Knowing you guys are always there…even if we’re not all getting around to reading eachother faithfully anymore. That sort of thing. We agreed we loved you guys. We also agreed despite the sometimes catty nature of our little blog community-we do come together rather fast to get eachother’s backs. It’s really impressive, actually.

I no longer differentiate between my “blog” friends and my “real” friends. You are all officially my real friends. I talk about you at my house and with my kids like you live next door. I was telling Izzy how Count Waffles totally recognizes and KNOWS Bella. “Mom, did they ever get that goat back into that fence?” My mom says stuff like, “Did your friends have a good time at the Bill Maher taping?”

Man, I’m must be PMSing because this was NOT the post I intended…but you people make me all misty. I was going to make jokes about Izzy and this HUGE horse we hung out with and discuss how normally I am a navagatrix with directions…and how Florida roads are confusing with their gun shops and strip clubs and white trash mom trick-or-treaters in bikini tops, smoking, with baby’s on their hips…collecting candy themselves…and here I am, telling you all how much I love you and shit.

Izzy apparently makes me weak what with her infectious laugh and attitude and all.

I’m off to see Shash today…odds are I shall return a puddle of tears and gratitude for all my bloggy friends.