We are silly girls.
This is probably the best way to be girls together, and we are certainly silly girls. The plan (since all the boys we hang out with were out of town) was to go out for a girly dinner and then some light drinking.
The dinner was perfect, slightly overpriced with a good bottle of wine, and no complaints from either of our stomachs about the magic of it.
The drinking started light, but quickly turned to indulgent; fortunately, not until we ended up back at her place. This was all fine and good; we were in a safe, warm environment in which to indulge in our imbibing. It got to a point where after a solid night of amusement, which included goofy pictures, and girlish play, we were both close to passing out. It had become a fabulous alcohol-fueled slumber party.
The clock was passing three a.m. when I realized that I was starting to get seriously tired. So I turn to the girly.
“We should go to bed.”
“Okay, I’ll go get in bed.” And I head into her bedroom, which has most comfortable fluffy bed. As I was falling I was pretty sure girly was behind me and soon to follow.
I woke up suddenly around 4 a.m. I look over to see myself alone in a giant bed. The entire purpose of a good slumber party is, of course, to slumber together in big human puppy piles that are warm and comfortable, and cozy and loving. But I was all alone which seemed rather unfortunate. I decided to go looking for her. And the dog. I knew this was also very important, it was a slumber party with all three of us: me, girly, dog. All of us together.
What I found was the couch. On couch was slumbering girly. Slumbering girly was inexplicably wrapped up in my coat. This is understandable as she was mostly wearing a shirt and panties, more than appropriate attire for a slumber party, less so for the -20 degree weather we have been having here for the last four days.
I’m confused about the coat, but figure it is obvious: girly is cold. My brain knows that now it is time to get girly up off the couch and into bed before she freezes to death. I try the old shaking shoulder routine but get little response. Calling name, touching shoulder, pulling on arm. Finally, a mumbled response is returned to me.
“Girly, come on it’s time for bed.”
“Olmy-yayo?” I’m a little confused. Okay, sure it’s funny, how much is it?, but weird. And I’m starting to get cold wandering around in my own silk bathrobe so I try again.
“Okay, girly, come on, time for bed.” I grab her arm and shoulder and start to gently pull.
“Sara, no Sara Sara Sara stop.”
“Girly, it’s time for bed.”
“No, no, no, no, no. Olmy-yayo?”
“How much is it?”
“Ne, First lesson, Olmy-yayo?” She starts writing the letters across her body with her finger.
I kind of watch this thinking I want to ask what she is on, but then I recall we have been drinking.
“Okay, first lesson. Let’s go to bed.”
At this point I am just thinking and trying to figure out what will be the best solution. I have an idea.
“Man-won.” I figure ten bucks is a good bet.
“Ne.” She gets off the couch and starts walking. She continues to repeat to me in Korean how much is it, first lesson, occasionally tossing in something else in Korean I can’t understand. This keeps up till I finally manage to push her into the bed which she promptly manages to spread out in and occupy in full; leaving barely any room for me. Fine.
“Girly, I’m going to get the dog.”
“Ee-chon-on.” I respond. I figure if it’s ten to get her into bed then maybe two will cover the dog. I toss the dog into the bed and go to crawl in as well.
“Olmy-yayo?” She asks again. I add it up.
“Man-ee-chon-on.” I say back to her.
“Can I pay you in the morning?” I ask her.
“Do you accept credit cards?”
I smile, amused, and push her onto one side of the bed so I can snuggle in and pass out.
When we wake the next morning she tries to reconstruct the evening.
“You speak Korean in your sleep,” I tell her.
Exactly. I’m still amused.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
We are silly girls.