That nice picture is all fine and dandy, but it doesn't really sum up our relationship. Let me try again.
Ahh. Much, much better.
In any case, today I will tell you a story about me and Meghanne.
(Preface: Meghanne and I have a slight...affinty for weddings. Not our weddings. Just weddings in general.)
Setting: Wednesday night, junior year of college. 10 pm.
"Meghanne, we've had the longest day ever. I'm so, so tired. And yet, I don't want to go to bed yet," says Jillian. "I KNOW. LET'S GO TO THE GROCERY STORE AND GET WEDDING MAGAZINES AND WATCH THE WEDDING PLANNER!!!" replies Meghanne, all in verbal caps lock. Jillian finds this to be a brilliant idea. Generally, you wouldn't peg her as the let's-all-read-wedding-magazines-and-pick-our-engagement-rings kind of girl, but suddenly, the reading-wedding-magazines-and-watching-a-chick-flick part of Meghanne's plan seems to be the best plan in the entire world.
Jillian and Meghanne race to the grocery store. The clock on the dashboard reads 10:32. Luckily, Shaws is open until 11. Upon entering the store, they immediately recognize imminent danger: other Gordon students are grocery shopping! At risk of ruining their reputations as sensible people, they sneak to the magazine isle, and, disguising the incriminating material at the bottom of the basket by covering it discreetly with Ben and Jerry's ice cream, they make their way surreptitiously to the check out.
"Oooooh, are you getting married?" the check out lady asks politely and somewhat excitedly. Eyes on the conveyor belt, they reply in unison, "....noooo...." "Oh dear, I remember when I was your age. My girlfriends and I would get wedding magazines and watch girly movies while eating candy. It was so much fun. Is that what you're doing?"
Quickly, Meghanne comes up with an excuse to preserve our compromised feminine integrity. "My sister! (Sidenote: Meghanne is sister-less.) My sister is getting married and we're having a girly night with her and the rest of the bridesmaids and so we needed this magazine and the ice cream so that we could have our party and it's a surprise so we're getting it late tonight so there's no chance she'll be here."
The checkout lady may or may not have believed us. We will never know. What we do know is that we get safely back to campus, the magazine and ice cream double-bagged so that we won't be accused of being "typical Gordon girls" or "Ring-by-Spring fanatics."
Of course, by retelling this story, I've sort of already done that, haven't I?
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