The Conference Call in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

As I stepped into the conference room, I turned and shut the door behind me. I knew that this conference call wasn’t going to be pretty. I assumed that there would probably be a lot of raised voices and some pretty vile language.

There were several people and time zones involved in this conference call, and I figured that it would take a while to get everything said that needed to be said. So I plopped myself down in a chair, situated the phone just right, looked at my watch. It was exactly 12:00. I took a deep breath, and dialed the number….

As I was tapped into the line, I could hear that the conversation had already started. Voices. Some I recognized and some I didn’t. It all sounded like chatter, and I interrupted the confusion with a “hello?”

Someone asked, “Who’s that?”

“Ginger,” I answered.

…and all at once….HEEEEEEEYYYYY GIIINNGGERRR!! How the hell are you?!

Instantly, I could recognize all the voices. These are my girls. My college buddies. The girls I’m going to be spending next weekend (plus a few extra days) with in New York. The purpose of the call was to make sure that we have each other’s travel itineraries and to discuss plans and thoughts about what we want to do while we’re there.

What the call ended up being was a series of giggles, swearing, obnoxious noises, and “what-are-you-going-to-wear??”s.

Picture this: eight grown women sharing two hotel rooms in New York City. Eight grown women who all need to shower at some point. Eight grown women who all need to primp. Eight grown women who ALL need the bathroom!! Eight grown women trying to get their shit together at the same time. Eight grown women turning into children again the instant they get together!!

Damn. I love those women. Not sure how much I will still love them after five days of togetherness, but we do this every year. Somehow we make it out alive. Tattered and torn, but alive.

The conference call was 45 minutes long. My belly was aching from laughing so hard by the time we hung up. Can you imagine trying to hang up when eight grown women are simultaneously screaming, “OKAY. LET’S ALL MEET IN THE HOTEL BAR. BYE!! I LOVE YOU BITCHES! I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU SLUTS!! YOU HANG UP…NO YOU HANG UP…I LOVE YOU!! BYE!” over and over and over…