Carolina Mountain Dogs

This weekend, some fine ladies of UF's phi-nest sorority decamped to Beech Mountain for a reunion retreat deep, DEEP in the mountains of North Carolina. HG graciously opened her family's vacation home for the occasion and it was equipped with enough processed food to serve an army of say, 11 post-grad stress eating young professionals. After the connecting flight to Charlotte, DS, DG, SH and I rented a car (alas, DG and I are not yet 25 and legally unable to do so, thankfully, since I possess the driving skills of a houseplant) and made our way through 'The Hills Have Eyes' set inspiration with nary a human for 150 miles but many spooky solitary mailboxes and an occasional wooden church. Upon our arrival at Rosey's Roost, the Banner Elk home, we kissed the 55 degree ground in appreciation for surviving the treacherous drive and got to work absorbing Cape Cod Salt n' Vinegar chips and tales of each others' lives.
  We're a rather impressive bunch. Just over three years out of, what was a FREE education for most of us (take that, 50 grand a year private school hater$$), we are two practicing UF law school attorneys, two Teach For America alumni - now a charter school teacher and a nonprofit manager, an editor for Country Living, an advertising executive for New York Magazine, a United airlines executive, a corporate recruiter, a marketing manager of a W hotel, a Zumba corporate exec, and of course, a dietitian with a dog. And a partridge in a pear tree. Not too shabby for a group of girls who were freshmen in a year when we all had flip phones.
   We brunched, we hiked, we wine tasted, we conquered. We waxed nostalgic about college, chirped and gushed about our significant others, lamented about the miseries of being financially cut off from our parents, and whined about how much we missed our dogs. It was exquisite to be together again. It was clear that we've all grown, but have we grown up? When does that officially happen? On the way to the airport, DS and I were mistaken for high schoolers by a restaurant employee. If our youthful looks are any indication, I'd say we have a long way to go.

Happily ever after,

Mon and Mads