Free to be me.

It was the kind of weekend you wish you could have every weekend.

There was a lot of great conversation, a lot of drinks and food, a friendship that picked up like it never left off and the meeting of some really great, fun people.

It started with an Irish car bomb at the Banshee in Scranton after a work-free Friday and ended today with four glasses of champers at my BFF Tiffany's wedding shower - where I am proud to say I won a crimson pashmina during one of the shower games! - followed by a great Sunday dinner at Mommalah's.

It was so what my soul needed.
No thoughts. Not arguments. No going-on-the-defensive.
Just me being me, with someone I can totally be me with - who thinks that me is "absolutely fabulous," as it were.

I've been feeling a little ... not myself the last week or two, just making sense of some internal demons, if you will, of what I want in a few areas of my life.

Some of those decisions are harder than others, and some, once the writing was so blatantly on the wall that even my sometimes rose-colored glasses couldn't hide them anymore, were easy as pie.

Or as easy as eating all that kielbasa this weekend and washing it down with ice cold brews.

A good weekend indeed.