I think I like you, but you like this whole room...

you sexy machine. - Gavin Degraw

I think I am still recovering from this past weekend. To sum up: Ashley, Katy, Cara, and me. Rap music. Guitar playing. Girl talk. Eskimo Hut. I like to call it "The night that lasted a weekend". I didn't even stay up all night at middle school lock-ins. I was the kid that fell asleep, subsequently falling prey to whatever my "friends" thought would be funny: shaving cream in the palms + feather lightly grazing the nose, hand in warm water, underwear in the freezer, what have you. I couldn't stay up when I was 14. What made me believe that I could stay up all night, not having to eventually face the consequences, I am not sure. For some reason, staying up sounded like an awesome idea. I think after 4 am, every idea seems awesome. I remember Ashley and I playing guitar at 5 am, and at that time my stream-of-consciousness thoughts were said aloud for all to hear:

Nine-thirty isn't so far away. Let's just stay up. Hey, we should go to Whataburger! Man, steak sounds really good. Why am I singing "Brick"? That is the most improbable song for a woman to sing...ever. It's about his girlfriend having an abortion. With me singing, it would have to be more like a ballad about immaculate conception. I have the key to Eric's...we should just go hang out there. While we're up we could even get in some punching-bag time. I wonder what time Texas Roadhouse opens. We're not really doing anything. We should just go wait in the parking lot. When does The Dixie Pig open? Pancakes sound good. Let's go let my dog out.

This went on for some time. If you ask Ashley and Katy, probably too long. By Saturday night, after having not slept since Friday morning, we were all delirious, which...although your body aches and you know you need sleep...it is actually kind of entertaining. Everything is funny. Everyone is funny. Ashley relates it to the cheapest state of drunkenness. All I remember from the next evening at Katy's is looking through a Pottery Barn catalog and laughing hysterically. I mean, I love Pottery Barn, but I never thought leather sofas could cause me to sit, doubled-over in pain from laughter.

Saturday night, in my delusional state, I went to dinner at Mary's with my friends from high school. I sat at the table, looking around and taking everything in. In five years, we have all changed so much. Trisha's married now and rockin' the short hair. Emily's in medical school. Allison works in Ft. Worth. Kimmy is working for a law firm in Austin. We all look older, different. Upon walking in the restaurant, I received a flood of comments about the length of my hair, remembering that they have not seen me in months, and even then, my hair hasn't been this long in...ever, maybe. I am so thankful that, though we have all changed, we can find a common thread that binds us together: our memories and the fact that we genuinely love and care for each other. High school memories colored our conversation. We talked about Emily's "Black Phantom", stalking incidents, different high school teachers, the middle school/high school heartthrobs and where they are now, old boyfriends, forgotten names and faces, etc. Nights like that are incredible. Old friends are priceless because they are the ones that know and love us...not only the old us, but the new us. They know your secrets, your mistakes. They laugh at your jokes, and know your thoughts, or even the next words out of your mouth without asking. I miss having these girls around me, but God has provided me with friends here that "get" me, and that is awesome. These girls cannot ever be replaced...they are like the ebb and flow of the ocean in my mind. Though they may travel far out, I know they will always find their way back to me, as I will to them. All of this to say, Saturday night was much needed.

Sunday...Easter. It was wonderful. I love Easter and I love spending time with my family. I am not sure they enjoyed spending time with me, as I was running on little sleep at that point. I recall telling a story about how the biggest fear with owning a chihuahua is that a hawk will sweep down and pick it up. Why did I tell this story? I don't know. I heard it from Ashley a while back and found it both intriguing and hysterical. Does anyone in my family even own a chihuahua? No. The puzzled looks on the faces of my family were terrific. I blame it on the sleep...or lack thereof.

The main point of this narrative: Melia + no sleep = Danger. Bad.