I’m on a “Girls’ Weekend” away. Well, actually, none of us are “girls”. As of today, we’re all over 50 (yesterday was the youngest “girl’s” 50th birthday). It feels weird to say, “Girls’ Weekend” when we’re all over 50, but “Women’s Weekend” sounds a bit too stuffy…and old. We need a new name for this type of jaunt – perhaps Fabulous Fifties Fling or Hormone Horror Holiday.
During our Girls’ Weekend, we’ve laughed, shopped, eaten well, laughed, talked, read, and laughed some more – very similar to what a Girls’ Weekend for 30-somethings might be like. However, I have noticed a few differences. For two of us, reading glasses must always be within reach. The night before last, I walked out on the deck to use my phone (poor reception here) and, as I lifted my reading glasses off my head to set them on my face, I was a little overenthusiastic and I fumbled with them, flinging them off my head, off the deck, down onto the dark ground below. I panicked, realizing that I would be blind to my books, computer and telephone until I could get to town the next day to find a new pair. I was so panicked that, with flashlight in hand, I braved the unknown and headed out into the dark night and foreign terrain to look for my glasses.
Another difference between a 30-somethings Girls’ Weekend and our Fabulous Fifties Fling is the little physical “issues” all three of us experience regularly. One has a knee issue, the other one has a muscle spasm issue and I have on going back and shoulder issues. Last night, in the car on our way back from a lovely birthday dinner, the just-turned-50-year-old enthusiastically suggested, “When we get back, I’ll get out my pain cream and we can each rub it on our sore spots!” Woo-hoo! We know how to party! No club dancing, no tequila shots, but bring out the pain cream and let the fun begin!
The reality, though, of a Girls’ Weekend, regardless of what decade marker the “girls” identify with or what the get-away is called, is that it’s a lovely time to reconnect, to relax, to spend a few days doing girl stuff with no men, no kids, no responsibilities. Hmm, that sounds similar to being a child – no men, no kids, no responsibilities. Perhaps Girls’ Weekend is the appropriate term after all.