Some Enchanted Evening

A few years ago, my friend Cathie scored some tickets to a Halloween party sponsored by her favorite morning radio crew. It was a great time and here and there you've seen the picture taken of myself and the Mr. in our pirate outfits.
About a week ago, Cathie told me that the magic was gone, she could not seem to win tickets to this year's event. We all gave up hope. Then on Wednesday night she called my cell to report a miracle! She was caller number 25 and we were going to the Magic Halloween party! The Mr. ultimately couldn't go so I tapped my sister, Amy, as my date. I recommend having a sister whom you can force to attends events with you if you're lacking a date. Being last minute, we hadn't anything prepared in the way of costumes and didn't want to spend lots of $$ on something from a costume shop.
I called Amy at work on Friday and told her I had decided to be a cowboy/girl/person. Being that I already have fabulous boots, it was a no brainer. She tells me, "I'm going to be a cowgirl too!" Well, initially this seemed like such a cute idea it was sure to make everything that much more fun! Two cowgirl sisters!
We decide to meet with the other two nurses who are going to the party at a local hotel so we can all drive together. Amy arrives and gets out of her car. I am wearing my jeans, denim jacket, black cowboy hat and boots. Amy is wearing a skirt, red & white gingham shirt, SPURS!, a straw hat and....um....wait a minute....something strange...long brown braids. Amy has purchased a wig.
So there I am in my jeans and jacket. There she is in her Hee Haw Honey outfit. Are you getting a picture in your head. We do not look like adorable cowgirl sisters. We look like "life partners". And I am the butch. I said BUTCH.
Well, my friends Cathie and Donna thought this was hilarious to be sure. So hilarious that at the party, Cathie decides to kick it up a notch. One of the morning crew d.j.s stops at our table to welcome us and Cathie says to him, "And this is Sara and Amy. They're life partners!" Mike the disc jockey mumbles something like "Well, hey, that's cool..." and wanders away never to drift past our table for the remainder of the evening while Amy and I shout, "No! We're sisters! Really!"
The unfortunate proof of this travesty is in the photograph of Amy and me that you see here. We are going to have to make more careful wardrobe choices for the Melissa Ethridge concert.
And please, stop calling us Ellen and Portia.
Although obviously, I would be Ellen.