Kathy each week hosts a project that us writerly types love: a chance to revisit a past post and update it with learnings since then. It’s called Tuesday Time Warp, and I love it. It’s beginning to feel like a tradition my group of friends once had: the “Tuesday Night Supper Club”. We’d meet up in some mid-priced London restaurant and talk about everything: books, movies, politics, gossip and generally just have a blast. Many nights we’d leave the restaurant around 2 AM. Those were some of the best nights of my life.
My new Tuesday tradition though is to pull up a virtual barstool at Kathy’s kitchen island, with friends like Deborah and Esperanza and Keiko and Lori and get to read really enchanting, thought-provoking writing, then get their impressions after the post was published. Because I am always one of those nerds that wants to ask the great posters exactly what they meant by a certain turn of phrase, this event is especially magical.
This week’s topic is “Meet-Ups” (not virtual) and so there is The Gang of Three of us ALI bloggers who live nearby. They are the sisters I never had, friends who would have loved the “Tuesday Night Supper Club”. They don’t live the closest to me but close enough. They are soulmates to me. I can imagine us coming up with some dopey Ya Ya ritual someday. Nah, we’re too cool for that.
If I had my way, I’d have these sisters living on my street. We’d all prepare food together, bitch, moan and aid projects and dreams would most likely achieve liftoff.
But The Gang of Three had one night of misadventure, which, being the shameless bloggers we are, we each posted about. It was the Rashoman of an ill-fated sleepover. I love this blog hop, because everyone was very honest about their past friendship baggage and how it led to the imploded get-together.
So here’s three different accounts of the same event from three separate bloggers. Rashoman, minus a lot of unpleasantness of the original work.
My friendships with Bodega and Esperanza are the best thing to have happened to me in this somewhat cursed year, or the year where challenges are being hurled at me like the many Bludgers aimed at Harry Potter during that one rigged game. The latest Bludger, this morning, was the worst so far, by far.
The only highlight was Esperanza’s wickedly amusing, foul-mouthed tweets, which brought me back to life. The Gang of Three is by no means exclusionary: If I could meet Mel or Lori or Kym, or Kristin or Keiko or Justine or Kathy or Wordgirl or Dresden: to quote Rachel Zoe: “That would be so major. That would be everything.” Luna, I am tracking you down and we will be having lunch as soon as my car is fixed. Hope, I would love to get your unique, thorough take on Infertility, Elphaba would dazzle me with her acerbic wit, Mo would just make me laugh with bunnies, Marie would be writing her own unique memoir and I could see it, LutC: I know that you would make me laugh with your unconventional humor. This is just the tip of the iceberg: if your name’s not on here, it’s because I’m afraid of writing a cast of thousands.
Because I have never met so many of “my people”. And I hope some day to meet you all.
To learn more about “Tuesday Time Warp”, please go here.