and then we had pie. and I saw a pink toilet.

Let’s just get this fabulousness out of the way shall we?
You will never guess who I had pie with.
Yup, the lovely, talented, extremely funny, and down-to-earth, Rachel Held Evans.

This past weekend I took a little road trip with some pals to go hear Rachel speak Saturday night and Sunday morning.
 We may have been a little stalkerish in the beginning:
 blowing up RHE’s Twitter feed on Friday night, sitting on the front row Saturday morning, kidnapping her after her talk for a dinner of salad, coffee, fries and pie.
(Okay, okay, she had the salad and I had the fries.)

But in the end we were all the very best of friends.
Despite the kidnapping and our over use of the hashtag #FtVegas.

Meeting someone from the interwebs in real life always has that sort of “what will they really be like?” question hanging around. But Rachel was warm, friendly, open, and exceedingly gracious. A true kindred spirit as Anne Shirley would say.

One thing I love about girl trips is all the attention to getting gussied up.
Living in a house full of absent minded professor males, means that getting ready to “go out’ is a very solitary endeavor.
No one cares what I wear.
No one can tell me which shoes go better, if I should wear my hair curly or straight, up or down.
If I should wear two necklaces or just one.
No one  understands taking make-up off, just to put it back on again.
This sort of shared experience was one of my favorite parts of dorm life:-music playing, multiple hair dryers blowing, the aroma of Final Net, Vanilla Sugar body wash and Clinique’s happy, hanging in the air.
Going on road trips with my girlfriends is important to my well being as a fairly girly-girl who lives with boys.

Of course life with boys is far from awful.
How can you not love these two?
Weirdos.
Where are these children’s parents?
Seriously.

In addition to pie and french fries, we also ate some amazing Central American food on Saturday.
Golly I love to go to an ethnic restaurant with someone who knows how to order, who speaks the language, and can translate all of my questions.
This meal resulted in a food coma that required a nap in a cold, dark, hotel room.
So. Good.

Also last week I found A Homemade Year in some brick and mortar stores here in town.
I have to confess that both the Annes were already on the this display shelf, and I was on the bottom row across the way.
But I couldn’t resist staging the photo anyway.
I love my Anne’s and I am always a little overwhelmed to realize that my little book is even in the same building, let alone on the same aisle as their books.