S: No Girls Allowed

This weekend was supposed to be guy weekend. No chicks allowed.

Which makes it somewhat amusing that I spent quite a bit of time with the boys. (Unless it means that I resemble a male so closely that they didn't know the difference.)

O.k., so really the camping/canoe trip got cancelled and the weekend (literally) got blown out of the water. This meant that the guys who had come from out of town to join the group had to find other things to do. Like enjoying malted beverages. Of course.

One of Guy’s buddies had already asked me earlier in the week if I was going to join them for a beer on Friday, so I had planned to crash that party from the beginning. I mean, who am I to turn down an invitation from a gentleman to partake of a brew?

Well, “joining for a beer” turned into crawling into bed rather impaired at 4:30 the next morning. Most likely because, as soon as they met me, the boys decided to get me drunk. I’m not sure why.

The next day, they wanted me to come back and play poker with them. I had many things to do at home, so I had to decline. This led to way more disappointment than appropriate on “no women allowed” weekend.

Apparently, Sheila is rather charming.

I do have a way with friends. And I’ve always had an easy time being “one of the guys.”

In order to alleviate their disappointment from the day, I made sure to spend some quality time with them that evening. Mostly keeping them from looking like a bunch of d-bags out on the town. From what I can tell, one halfway appealing female can legitimize your man gaggle. And make it easier for other females to warm up to you. (I’m happy to help when I can.)

This evolved into another 4:30 a.m. night and I am now officially exhausted. I guess I’m not the spring chicken I once was.

Boys wear me out.

But it was worth it. (Especially when one of them was adamant that he was 10 years older than me. It’s great to give off a 28 vibe a week before I turn…umm…way more than 28.)

I can’t wait for the next “no girls allowed” weekend.