These Are The Things...

...the actual physical, tangible stuff that mark the big events in life.  People always debate back and forth in my circle, I feel, about who spends how much and on what.  How do you decide what's worth the additional buck?  Is it the name brand?  The nutrition in the food?  The additional TV on the plane?  Possibly the hope that your dollars are helping teenagers exploited in California rather than children in China.  Whatever one's priorities, people are usually very attached to their ideas on what differentiates the dollars they decide to spend and the ones they decide to put away. 

Had you asked me this question at this time last week, I would have been clear.  No shoes are worth $700, I can't really tell one airline from another, and my mother insists that organic veggies are a hoax.  I would have been even clearer on the following point - things like penis straws and clip-in veils are never, ever worth their weight in plastic.

This time this week I know better, however.  I repent.  All of those silly ladies that poured into my casinos while I lived in Vegas, button-adorned, usually much too drunk, hitting on every man in every bar were constant subjects of my internal judge-ometer.  I take it all back.  I have been to the mountain. 

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you exhibits A, B, and C:

When my good LA friend produced the above items from her suitcase, I cringed.  "We talked about this," was the look I shot SisterFriend.  I always lumped women with their fallic headbands into a group I assumed was really just looking for additional male attention, despite the fact they were celebrating that at least one was about to say publicly that she had found all the attention she would ever need in one man.  What woman would blow into a whistle shaped like a pair of boobs unless she wanted the world (i.e. the men in bars) to look at her?  I would not stoop to that level.

What I did learn as one of the most magical weekends of my life unfolded was that the silliness, the boas, the tiaras are an easy trade for what I reaped.  (And for clarity, I did none of the more aggressive things.  No penis straws were in public.  I did no hitting on anyone, nor did any of my friends - just in case you were wondering.)  I have always been excessively blessed with amazing friends, specifically women friends in my life.  I was ready to have a lovely time with them - yet I had no idea how often I would be literally moved to tears I after spending a full weekend with some of my favorite people from so many different times in my life.  Suddenly TFA friends were meeting rowers, who were meeting Brownsville warriors, all of whom were hanging out with SisterFriend - it was all I could do to keep my tiny, extra-super-lucky head on straight.  So many times over the weekend I had to stop myself and say, "Yes.  My friends are the most perfect people ever.  Yes, they are all in this place together.  Yes.  I literally have all I could ever ask for."

So now as I return to the day-to-day and clean through the remnants of the weekend, I find that the veils, beads, and straws have to stay.  I want to wear and use them all the time, not for the attention, but for the feeling of warmth and closeness that I felt and still feel about how truly wonderful, in that moment, it was to be me - surrounded by quite literally some of the best people ever to grace the planet. 

And for that, I say:

True story - this Mountaintop Weekend has also flipped me on my wedding planning thoughts, but perhaps that's for another day...