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I had a four day weekend this past weekend and I really wanted to go somewhere. Just get out and use my freedom and time off. Before I knew it, Wednesday had arrived, marking my last day before the long weekend. No airline ticket, no full tank of gas for a long drive, and absolutely no plans. No epic New Years, I guess.

I still left work with a little bounce in my step at the possibility of being able to clean my room and work out and read and do whatever the heck I wanted for that matter but still had this urge for a last minute impulsive (and out of character) change in plans to fly somewhere…

You are all wrong. This post is not about where I ended up going but about the extraordinary thing that happened while staying in good ol’ SB. I got to live out my favorite sitcom. Well the truth is, I get to live it out a lot, but this weekend sealed the deal. Between my apartment, and the 5 boys that live directly above us, we have become a new, younger, mostly more appropriate version of the TV show Friends. We practically started each day standing in a fountain wearing similarly odd clothing while people watched and adored and sang along. I have a tendency to exaggerate but not here; no, sir—the eight of us (5 guys and 3 girls) didn’t really leave each other’s sides all weekend long, and it was a beautiful thing.

The small chance of all of us not working prevents this combination from happening more often, so we all laughed a little more, and stayed up a little later, and got a little more creative than we normally would. The boys let go of their Halo controllers and instead headed up a hike that ended by jumping in the ocean in the middle of winter at sunset. The girls decided that we could forgo a movie night to host the most intense 3 hours of Mafia ever played, in our living room. There was lawn bowling, new years eve dancing, hookah, and a lot of toasting. Cheers to that.
I had to stay grounded this weekend: no flying to find thrills, and it was a damn good time. The recipe: 5 boys, who are actually men but still love to be boys, that will make you laugh while simultaneously making you want to punch them in the same moment, 3 girls that love each other and are up for most things, 2 apartments that are basically the same house, so much that I know when the boys are showering, or really walking anywhere for that matter, and lastly, a lot of love. Fine, call me the cheesy one. It’s true (even though Britt takes the cake for most times saying, “I just love you guys” throughout the weekend). There were these very specific moments that I felt were bigger than just day-to-day life (Kareem and Laura like to call these “warm moments”): sharing hi-lights of 2009 and anticipations of 2010, praying over our friends Alex and Danielle that were engaged on New Year’s Eve, standing soaking wet from our plunge into the ocean as the end of the sun slipped into the horizon and the boys stood there in boxer briefs (paradoxically beautiful and disturbing), and a final dinner with everyone where I laughed so hard as we recounted the adventures behind us. It was a great way to start the New Year and for a great play on words, I have written the next sentence. Thank you for being friends that keep me grounded.

This is always how an episode of Friends would end: with a nice tender summary to make the mayhem more bearable for the viewers. But if you remember correctly, there is always that additional 45 seconds after the final commercial that ends it with a last laugh (perhaps a life lesson tied in here somewhere?). So to follow suite, just picture this:

The engaged couple in our crew, Brit and Jon, coming far too close to calling off the engagement over an all-out screaming battle:

Brit: I know you so well. You are lying! He’s LYING!
Jon: Oh my gosh—YOU are such the liar!!
Brit: You are a killer. I know it.
Jon: Do you guys seriously believe her? I’m engaged to her and she is the one that is killing people!
Brit: (no words just puffs up her cheeks and makes a noise similar to that off a toddler that is about to throw a tantrum while doing the actions that would go along with such an act of frustration…hands balled in fists pushed down at her side as she pushed herself on her tip-e-toes and nearly bursts)
Jon: Oh my gosh, babe. You are so dramatic. That’s how I know you are lying.

Meanwhile we are all dying laughing as we watched their future come close to non-existent over a game of Mafia.

Britt was the mafia. So if she is ever being dramatic, you know she is up to no good…