Over the weekend I visited my beloved cousin L, who I have considered one of my best friends since we were little girls, begging our moms to let us sleep over at her Gramma's house so that we could have a few more blessed hours together before going our separate ways again. They almost always said yes, leaving me with bountiful memories of staying up too late, talking ourselves to death and scheming over plans of being old enough to finally get together on our own withOUT our dorky moms, who embarassed us and would actually wear jeans to the beach. Jeans!!
L now lives in Monterey, which is one of my favorite places on earth. For the first time in what we think is 11 years (since before her daughter was born) we got to spend an afternoon together KID FREE. We almost didn't know what to do with ourselves.
Oh, who am I kidding -- we TOTALLY knew what to do with ourselves!
Three words: Blood Orange Margaritas.
That's how we started, and it only got better from there. L was kind enough to take me to her two favorite places in Carmel, where I immediately spent money on fun little things that I knew I couldn't live without.
Here we are sassing it up in front of Anthropologie at the Carmel Plaza.
Definitely not dorky. There's no way we would have mocked our mothers for doing something like this. Not at all.
Also, I was not wearing jeans in this picture. I swear.
Okay, confession time. L and I talked about it, and we've come to realize something. Sometimes it's friggin' cold at the beach, so jeans just make sense. Why would you want to freeze?? There's absolutely nothing wrong with jeans on a chilly coastal day. Thankfully, our daughters think we're perfect and will never make fun of us when they get older.