I wake up at 8 to be at an interview at 10:15. My normal get-ready time is about 15 minutes but once I open my eyes this morning, my mind begins racing and I struggle to keep my nerves at bay. I need to get dressed, eat, and put together my portfolio. I arrive at the Icon building just in time and meet with the girls from JL Design. Barely into the interview, I am asked if I am aware that the first three months of the internship is unpaid. I try to hide my surprise, shock and horror but I'm fairly positive I'm unsuccessful.
"Are you ok with that?" She asks.
Huh? What?? No!
"Uh.. ok, yeah, yes.."
Damn it.
We proceed. I am very honest with them. They love my portfolio. After we're done, she gives me a hug and asks if I want to lay out by the pool with them. I have a good feeling about the interview.
I go transfer phone calls for four hours and I'm out at 4:59. Ha. Take that, man.
It's happy hour. It's made an even happier hour with the phone call offering me the internship. I join some co-workers at Chili's and celebrate with two-for-one wine. This is a very pleasant start to an unsuspecting weekend. I convince one of them to join me for a friend's birthday party and we're off in his car, leaving mine to camp out in the parking lot for the next 2 days. We grab some booze, a sister and our swimsuits and make our way.
We arrive at a house that is entirely too nice to be any of ours (my friend is house-sitting - don't worry she got permission to have a party). We enter the gate and I swear I hear an angelic "ahhhh" as I gaze upon the glittery pool and its amenities. We crank the music and begin to fill the hot tub with bodies, Sesame Street Count style- 5 pretty party people, 6 pretty party people, 7...8... 15! 15 pretty party people! ah ah ah... And thus begins the debauchery. You can imagine how the evening played out.. Not too many different outcomes for the hot tub + half naked people + booze equation. It was indeed a magical mess. At who knows what hour, when we're all pruney and drunk, we slowly disperse in search of beds, sofas, corners and crevices to claim.
9am. Good morning! Though I'm sure I've only had a few hours of sleep, the thought of the sun beating down on those lonely pool chairs is one I can't bear. Armed with a redhead-sized bottle of SPF 30, I make my way out to keep one company. One by one, I see sleepyheads squinting in the sun as they emerge. We spend the rest of the day like cats- napping in the sun, eating, playing, eating and napping some more.
In the evening, we take the baby blue convertible VW bug (she's car-sitting too) out to Arrington Vineyards and continue our cat-like behavior on a blanket on a hill looking out over the beautiful Tennessee country-side and listening to jazz. This makes the 2 hour wait for the wine tasting bearable, if not preferable. Now, when it comes to wine, I love the good stuff, but I settle for the cheap stuff. So, I'm swirling and I'm smelling and I'm tasting and it's all very lovely and they pour my last choice- a raspberry wine.
"Take a sip," he says, "then wait a minute and I'll give you a chocolate truffle to taste with it." I take a sip; I bite the truffle; I take another sip. Oh. My. Goodness. Are. You. Serious. Am I blushing? This actually feels inappropriate to be doing in public. Wow. I think I need a cigarette...
We're back on the blanket and the heat is finally being replaced by the kind of soothing breeze that only a clear summer night can produce. Our sun-burned skin is thankful as we watch the culprit sink behind trees and the blue sky darken.
When it reaches navy, we haul ourselves back the world of concrete and neon for, you guessed it, more drinking. We fill ourselves with too much beer and unidentifiable fried things before making it back to our weekend home we've named "the commune".
Into the hot tub we fall once again. Even less clothed than the night before, we channel middle school days and MTV Real World for a game of truth or--
CENSORED
--white light coming through the blinds. I feel like I've been sleeping in a cloud and I never want to move. I check my phone. It's broken. I close my eyes.
I hear laughing, dogs barking, techno music. I remember where I am and stretch my legs in my cloud. I blink my eyes open and see the beautiful smiling faces of friends. I check my phone. It's broken.
"What time is it?" Oh my, I sound like a man..
"11:30! get your ass up!" You don't have to tell me twice! I spring from my cloud, rub my eyes and throw my swimsuit on. The hardwood of the deck is warm on my bare feet as I venture outside to a scene that is becoming remarkably familiar. I yawn and smile at my friends. It's day two of eating, napping, swimming, sunning, grilling, singing, dancing, loving... oh heavenly day. Today, we grill. Publix, here we come. I grab the first shirt, shorts and shoes I can find and jump into the bug without opening the door (as far as I'm concerned that's the only way to get into a convertible).
I'm squeezing a delicious-looking mango in the produce section when I become painfully aware of the ridiculousness of my attire- a wife beater, my high school gym shorts- with my bathing suit strings sticking out of the top, and black shiny high tops. This is all complete with a hastily pulled up ballerina bun directly on top of my head. I catch a stare from a cardigan-clad soccer mom and smile.
We get back to the commune with 5 bags of deliciousness and fire up the grill, though we could probably just set everything in the sun for a bit it's so hot. We make kabobs with peppers and pineapple and mushrooms and zucchini (and several varieties of dead animals for the meat-eaters) We dip blue tortilla chips in salsa and hummus. There is macaroni salad and some kind of really awesome banana bread and watermelon and pie.. mm mm mm.. it's an exquisite spread. Soon we are full to the brim and leave the flies to the tiny leftover bits as we drape ourselves over the lawn furniture and drift into food comas. We are in and out of cat naps as the end is drawing near.
Eventually, the dreaded is here. It is inevitable. I pack up my stuff and wave goodbye to the commune.
I'm still groggy when I get back to my real home. My short evening plays out like this- I do a little cleaning, a little mental-sorting, throw a movie on and am asleep by 10. I dream of flying on the backs of butterflies. Not really. That was the only made up part of this story. The rest was real. Real and really glorious.
Glorious, glorious weekend.
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