Emmy (one of my bff's, known her since kindergarten, is some high paid
call girl lawyer in New York): I think you and Logan need to take me out to dinner.
Me: Emmy, this is Issa.
Emmy: I know that tard, I called you didn't I?
Me: Are you drunk dialing me?
Emmy: Babe, it's like 7:30pm my time. No one cool starts drinking until at least 9 o'clock.
Me: Okaaaay. Well um, NYC is a bit far for dinner tonight.
Emmy: I guess you're right. Good thing I'm in Denver isn't it?
Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, serious? (Jumps up and down, screams some more, drops phone at least twice.)
Me: Are you really here? You can't screw with me like this. I can't handle it.
Emmy: I'm not, I swearz. Double-dips. I'm in line at Hertz to get my rental.
Me: I might need to scream again.
Emmy: Don't, just shower and get your ass in gear. I'll be there in an hour.
Then I died.
Actually I'm so happy right now, you have no idea. I hope you all have a great weekend. I'll be back on Monday. I've got some catching up to do with my bff. Haven't seen the girl in at least two years.
Friday, January 2, 2009