Two of my favorite ladies are coming to DC this weekend. We plan to welcome 2007 in style. So much style that I bought a dress yesterday, went back to Bloomingdale's today, tried on more dresses and made the inevitable exchange. Hopefully Dress #2 is the winner.
In addition to the festivities on Sunday night, I planned an evening of fun on Saturday night. Neither of the out-of-towners have been to DC since the obligatory 8th grade trip, so I wanted to show them the fun side of the political palace.
Our plans Saturday night include going to a fun Moroccan restaurant and then to a place called Chloe. I collected a fun bunch of eight and sent a group email today outlining our plan of attack for Saturday night. It went like this, to my honey and six friends:
Ooooooooooookay, Saturday night we have a reservation for 8 at Marrakesh. Ali and Rachel, let me know if you can make it. There is still time to change the reservation, and you know we'd all love to have you join us! After, we'll go to Chloe in Adam's Morgan. www.chloedc.com
Until then,
Carissa
Tonight, right now, my honey and I are slugs on the couch. We wear sweatpants and drink Miller Lite. We each have a laptop warming our legs. But, I'll blog about what fun people we are later. This story has a different punch line.
During a Friends commercial, my honey looks up at me and says, "Where did you hear about Schlow?" He's peeking out from behind the laptop screen, eyebrows raised.
"What?" I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.
"Schlow," he says, "you know, the place you want us to go Saturday night, after Marrakesh. How'd you hear of it?"
Oh boy. I knew I lived with this guy for a reason. A man who can't pronounce Chloe is a man for me. He probably also doesn't understand the need to buy, exchange, buy and exchange dresses or why a red shirt would look stellar under a black pinstripe suit, other topics we discussed today.
Yep, he's the one for me.
(**Disclaimer: He swears he thought Chloe was spelled Cloey. (Suuuuuure you did; I've never seen it like that.))
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3 comments:
Chloey? Ha. That's funny. Who thinks that? ;)
I completely understand needing to exchange a dress. It's NYE! It's got to be The One.
Chloe is the name my old cat. May she RIP.
So I definitely didn't read this part, just the top part. This part makes a little more sense now, but even more funny.
Chloe is our puppy's name. She's spoiled, she knows she can get away with EVERYTHING, but she's also cuter than ever.
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