Rick, the girls and I hit the Jersey shore this past weekend. The 2 1/2 hour drive took a leisurely 5 hours.
If you can endure hours in a car, with your hungry, agitated spouse and even more cranky, ants-in-their-pants children without actually demanding a divorce, then I believe you are true soul mates.
You may not be speaking by the time you arrive. But really, that would be gravy.
Traffic aside, it was a beautiful, fab weekend. But I jetted back early to the city to see my sister, visiting from Memphis. And by “jetted,” I mean, I sat on the bus from Atlantic City to New York.
I’m really really not a bus person. Give me a train, a plane, a scooter, snow shoes, anything. But buses are just sort of cramped and bumpy and nauseating.
Still, this particular bus route has quite a reputation. I heard about folks nursing their slot losses and bringing on board cartons of Chinese food and big buckets of fried chicken and chowing down along the Jersey Turnpike. So you can imagine my immense disappointment when I saw only one guy with a dinky McDonald’s cheeseburger. What a letdown.
And not a single drunk, despondent gambler causing a ruckus. See? The bus just sucks.
That night, I tagged along with my sister and her friends. They all met in law school and decided to reunite in New York. Here’s my sister Quinn and her friend Erin.
Erin (on the right), at the decrepit, decaying age of 26, can’t find a good man. If Erin wasn’t so hilarious and so nice, I’d hate her for being a spring chicken. Anyway, if you know any tall men (Erin INSISTS that they be tall AND male… some people are so friggin’ picky) who lives in New Orleans, let me know and we will make like Chuck Woolery and connect these two southern love birds.
She’s not looking for a short cop. Long story. Just trust me on that.
Don’t find a hottie for my sister Quinn. She’s very much married and I don’t need my brother-in-law kicking my arse Memphis style. Whatever that means. I think it involves bbq sauce.
Now I know my single friends in New York are thinking, wait…Kelcey, why don’t you use your mystical mama bird powers to find me a svelte, McDreamy prince? All I can say is, this is not Match.com for gosh sakes, ok? But I’ll do my very best. So if you know any single bachelors in the 30 and 40 something range in Manhattan, pass those along as well.
Short cops are absolutely acceptable.
Finally (and this has nothing to do with cops… tall or short), ever since the cell phone craze began, I’ve always wondered who uses all those pay phones sprinkled around New York City (assuming they even work).
Well, the answer is so obvious that I now feel like a complete dufus.
mama bird notes
Click on “drooling over this” to check out a tale from the Method cocktail party circuit.
I know I promised the boy baby bundle next. But apparently, I’m a liar. Because in the spirit of “Sex and the City” mania, I’m giving away the movie soundtrack (see songs below) and a $25 Fandango movie ticket gift certificate.
That’s cool, right? Just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries by Friday, telling me if you are more like a Carrie, a Miranda, a Samantha or a Charlotte and you are entered. And I promise, the baby boy bundle giveaway really will be next. Mama’s honor.
Sex and the City Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
1. Labels or Love (Fergie)
2. All Dressed In Love (Jennifer Hudson)
3. The Look Of Love -Madison Park vs Lenny B Remix (Nina Simone)
4. New York Girls (Morningwood)
5. All This Beauty (The Weepies)
6. I Like The Way (Kaskade)
7. It’s Amazing (Jem)
8. How Deep Is Your Love (The Bird & The Bee)
9. The Heart Of The Matter (India.Arie)
10. Auld Lang Syne (Mairi Campbell & Dave Francis)
11. Kissing (Bliss)
12. How Can You Mend A Broken Heart (Al Green featuring Joss Stone)
13. Walk This Way (Run-D.M.C. featuring Steve Tyler and Joe Perry of
14. Sex and the City Movie Theme (The Pfeifer Broz. Orchestra)