I’ve been on a lot of dates in my lifetime, some of them crazy awkward. The stories I have pale, though, in comparison to my best friend Natalie.
My favorite was the guy who commented it might be funny for him to dress up in her lingerie. I can’t make this stuff up. One of these days she’s going to let me do a post about all of her crazy dating stories. Right, Natalie?
I haven’t been on a first date in ages. It’s one of those tricky things about getting married. The dating ends, or at least it is supposed to.
But this weekend? I totally went on a first date.
And her husband. And well… mine too.
Meg and I have been bloggy friends for years. I can’t even remember anymore if I found her or she found me. Either way, the minute we decided we were going to Atlanta for my cousin’s wedding, I emailed her and begged her for a date. It didn’t take her long to say yes. We decided on brunch somewhere on Sunday, until I remembered the stupid Georgia alcohol laws that don’t let you drink until a decent hour on Sundays so we remedied that immediately and changed our date to Saturday. First dates are much more fun when there is alcohol involved.
We met for brunch at Tree House in Atlanta, Meg’s brilliant suggestion. Isn’t it the cutest?
The weather was absolutely gorgeous for brunch on the patio. We enjoyed mimosas {me} and Skinny Girl Margaritas {her} and Southern Style Eggs Benedict {the boys} and lots of great conversation. We laughed. We made fun of Georgia Tech. We coveted the cute top the waitress was sporting. Lee made totally inappropriate death and destruction talk at the breakfast table, bless his heart. We made fun of Meg for living in Alabama and Dave for his kitchen disasters.
It was awesome.
She is so lovely in person it is unbelievable.
Meg, I don’t even care if those stupid Georgia Tech fans think we’re lesbians. The next time we’re in Atlanta, I’m asking you for a second date.







