Party On, Follicles

Four friends, L, C, G, and M, all have something in common with each other. Let's see-- one lives in Texas, one in my old hometown, one in my new hometown, and another in a different suburb of Detroit. So, it can't be that they all live in Michigan. What else could it be? Are you guessing they are all pregnant? Why then, you'd be correct and you should get a prize. How about a baby? There are impending babies all around me!

My friend Paul just had a baby too. Well, okay, his Partner had a baby. Paul and I were (are) great mates. It's just harder now that he's moved back to the UK. Paul and I visited the pub every weekend, easily, and often more than that. Paul, bless his Welsh heart, doesn't like beer, so often we'd go on 'champagne' nights. I mean-- really-- think about it. If four pints cost about $20, and one bottle of the cheap fizz in the pub we often frequented cost about $23, it was a pretty good deal if you didn't count the killer headaches in the morning. Often times the pub would run out of the cheap champagne when we were there and because Paul is cute and together we probably paid the rent on the place, they'd often substitute the good champagne--$70 a bottle-- for the cheap champagne but charge us the lower price.

Paul and I have had some good times. When we met, he was charming the pants off my good friend, Irish. Irish is a good looking gal-- We've heard comparisons to Shannon Doughtery or Xenia. In fact, often when we were out, guys would call out to her as we passed, "Hey Xenia!" And there was Paul, charming away. He said to her, "I'd like to have you for breakfast." Now say that to yourself in a very thick Welsh accent. (Most Americans couldn't understand poor Paul.) And then Paul looked at me and said, "She's breakfast, but you've got breakfast eyes." We were fast friends from then on. How could not be friends with someone who says you have breakfast eyes? Paul was ladies man. That's probably why it worked for us at the bar. He'd scope women and I'd scope the boys. (That's right-- I'd scope the men.) And Paul and I have boozed together not only across the Midwest, but also the UK.

I thought Paul would never settle down.

And now Paul too has a baby. My party Paul. My pub Paul. I guess he's now my Papa Paul.

I can't resent my friends for having these kids-- I totally understand it. It was one thing when friends had babies and I wasn't ready for it or when I didn't want it in the way I want it now. For example, when Paul and I were in our heyday, I knew I wanted kids but I also knew I didn't want them right then. I was having too much fun! Champagne! Pints! Shots! Kids would only get in the way.

But now I am not drinking the champagne like then. I'm doing shots, but a totally different kind. Paul is back home in Wales. With a baby. I went out this weekend and bought the most darling outfit for her. I can't wait until they get it and dress her up in it and send me photos.

I can't wait until we're dressing our babe up and sending them photos too.

(Go follicles, go follicles, go follicles, go!)