Here’s the thing about surprises: I’m not so great with them. When it comes to surprises for myself, you’d better hope it is actually that — a surprise. I don’t do so well when I know something’s coming, but can’t be told what it is. (And by “don’t do so well,” I mean that I will bug you incessantly and you will end up regretting everything.) I only like surprises if I am genuinely, completely caught off guard.
And when it comes to pulling off surprises of my own? Well, I like to talk a lot. Things sometimes slip out.
But when they’re important, they never do.
This past weekend, we pulled off one important, wonderful surprise for my best friend.
I headed to Colorado for a work trip, which Jen was well aware of. We’d already planned it out: I’d go to my event in the Springs, she’d pick me up at the airport afterwards, and we’d spend the weekend together doing all of the autumnal things.
Little did she know, we’d have someone else with us.
Our friend Makenzie — Jen’s best friend since high school, and my subsequently “good friend” 😉 — has been in Spain all summer. She and Jen hadn’t seen each other since January.
So, naturally, we had to get them back together.
Guys, I was shaking by the time Makenzie got to the Denver airport. I was so nervous that, for some reason or another, this wouldn’t work out. There were a lot of moving parts, after all: I’d fibbed to Jen and said I had a client dinner that would keep me from getting back to the Denver airport until 9:30 that night (in reality, I’d been sitting at the airport since my shuttle from the Springs got me there at six); Jen said she was heading to the airport before Makenzie’s flight even touched down; we’re all connected on Find My Friends so there was always the chance she’d look and catch on. I was fidgety and nervous and excited and anxious, all at once.
And then, we totally pulled it off:
Naturally, once it was discovered that we had an extra member of our little crew that weekend, our plans shifted a bit. A pumpkin patch first became brunch, then became s’mores, then became a fall festival in a trendy alleyway in downtown Denver. The barre class Jen and I planned on taking got pushed back a day and was also Makenzie’s first introduction to the workout. We discovered the glory of cinnamon-sugar donut bites, and the unfortunate irritation of bad service when you’re waiting for brunch and hungry. (In case you’re wondering – Jelly Cafe has amazing food, but don’t go when it’s busy.)
But most of all, we reunited.
And honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered what we did. We could have sat on the couch watching How I Met Your Mother all day, petting the dogs and eating pickled green beans and we would have been completely content. (Oh wait – we did do that…)
All that mattered is that we pulled it off.
And it was one of the best weekends we could have asked for.
[Special shout out to Quinn, for knowing about it the entire time and not saying a word, and willingly giving up the entire ground floor of his house for the weekend.]
Cheers until next time, Denver.
