OK, so it was not ALL serious and photogenic and atristic..or even "pretty"..

yeeeeah, whenever we girls get together, it's really, seriously, something else..

totally.

seriously.

Take last Friday night. After dinner at Larry & Cilla's. It was late. We were tired.

Did we let that stop us? Noooooo..

Once back at Gerri's...

Recipe for a side-splitting evening:

{Disclaimer..wine was involved..}

Ingredients:

3- sisters

1- niece-photographer/videographer

3- paper-facial-masks that look like thick computer paper (Gerri used to be with Elizabeth Arden salons at VP of HR and got samples)


1- bottle of wine..any color, any type, any year...

1-digital camera and 1 flip-camera (video)

Directions:

Place paper on face. Cut holes for eyes and nose (holes do not need to be made to actual eye/nose ratios - example: Gerri's one beady eye and my ginormous eye holes...Kathy's are.. ..perfect... because, well..she's Kathy..)




Wet face. Put paper on face. Wet paper. Peel. Drink.




Add wine.

Not to face. Ingest the wine..

Feel and look 10 years younger!

OK, maybe look 10 hours younger, however, act 52 years younger.

Next: How to moon people without ever taking your pants off:

1. Hop into truck back seat - squeeze into backseat by folding down front seat and crawling in

2. Ride to Estate in back seat with 3 other people and 2 (two) friendly dogs in truck

3. Sail across 35-miles of rough, dusty, bumpy gravel roads with 3 other people and 2 (two) friendly dogs

4. Park truck on the world's narrowest street and have to endure the stares and verbal abuse of elderly men in golf carts saying, "You're taking up the whole street!"

5. Attempt to get outof said truck by swinging your adorable Sketchers-shooed feet out from the back-seat, and feel them dangle 10 inches above the hot pavement of the too-narrow subdivision, while enduring yet another verbal berating by yet another old fart in a friggin golf cart..

"We're purchasing furniture and we'll move the truck as soon as it loaded, Groucho-Grumpy-Gramps... Go hit a ball or something...so..go..FOUR! or hit a boogie (bogy?)..a ball" (always wanted to say that..)

Try to squeeze out of backseat...hanging by something.. ..butt's not THAT big..something's terribly wrong. (!) ...feet are swinging trying to touch down..arms are flailing...face is turning red in the heat...

Riiiippp..

..ooooh-kay. Cool air rushing where no cool air should be..no blood..just shreds of what was previously known as my JEANS and my screamin' yellow PANTIES hanging down.

Well, at least my feet are now on solid ground.

Alrighty Pops-and-the-golf-cart-gang , where are ya now that I can officially moon ya??


"So we loaded up the truck and move to Beverly..Hills that is.. (uh..Arivaca hills)
{no} swimmin' pools {or } movie stars.."

{notice the 'readers' AND the magnifying glass? ?? Naw - she doesn't need glasses..but we WERE afraid of her starting a FIRE!}

Hurumph..

-me