Some years ago, a few friends and I began a tradition we affectionately have come to refer to as “Date Night.” It started in grad school when three of us had standing plans after class throughout one term. From there it sort of emerged somewhat coincidentally into an institution we all plan our respective weeks around. Over the years we have taken on new members beyond the original three. For the most part, there are consistently four of us who I like to picture as the characters from Sex and the City (although we don’t fit the archetypes of the characters well). Whereas those girls have their weekly brunch, we have date night.
We have seen one another through break-ups, parents’ illnesses, new jobs, old jobs, old boyfriends resurfacing, new boyfriends evolving, weddings, marriages, bridesmaid dresses, crazy co-workers, crazy diets (namely the lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup one), milestone birthdays, internet dating, home ownership, career changes, completed doctorates, therapists, licensing, credentialing, generalized angst, siblings who home school, siblings in jail, siblings who were teenager mothers, siblings who iron their underpants, book clubs, bare minerals make-up, enmeshed family systems, great roommates, terrible roommates, yoga, eccentric parents, international travel and, if it hasn’t been made clear enough through the previous assortment of the sum total of our friendship meant to evoke both humor and the tenderness of our relationship, life in general.
Tonight was the latest installment of date night – Thai food in Sierra Madre. I have left-overs and the glow of knowing I found true love in life.
