Dre and TW and I watched a gay German comedy (didn’t think such a thing existed, didja? Me neither.), and I now have a heinous crush on a man named Til (short for Tilman, which happens to be my boyfriend’s middle name) Schrager. *sigh*

Anyhoo, enough mooning over Til.

The Girly Sqeeze slumberparty was a roaring success last night. We drank that pink champagne, along with plum wine, red wine, and raspberry beer. We ate strawberry shortcakes and pink rice crispy treats and cherry brownies. We gossiped about Tom and Nicole, we discussed width vs. girth, and we made valentines. Oh lordy, did we make valentines. 12 women, 6 pairs of scissors, 4 bottles of glue, 10 rubber stamps, unlimited doilies and construction paper…we were crafting until 4am, and the girls were at it again when I got up at noon this morning (er, afternoon). It was a hilariously fun party, great to see all those women in one place and I only wish that more of my favorites had elected to make the trek.

TW and I were discussing female friendships, and comparing stories of dear old female friend who just don’t keep in touch. What’s that about? My best friends from highschool AND college are both near-by (one in Seattle, the other in Bellingham), but neither contact me. I keep in touch with them, and it’s like pulling teeth to keep them to return the favor. I invite them to parties, I send them emails, I leave phone messages…and if I manage to get ahold of them, both of them are friendly enough…but does communication seem to be a one way street? TW reports similar luck with her old dear friends. Why do women do this to eachother?