Best. Weekend. Ever.

And if it wasn't the absolute best, it was pretty close. Abbey, Amy and I took Friday off of work and all flew into Tampa from our new homes on Thursday night for a weekend at my parent's house in Gulfport. Our itinerary was pretty complex: beaching, eating, shopping, and drinking, and we accomplished it all. Seriously, though, it was one of the most equally relaxing and exciting weekends I've ever had. We never rushed anywhere or stressed about anything. My mom made us some great food. My brother took two days off to drive us around. And I got to hang out with the people who are probably the five most important ones in my life. Some highlights:

The beaches: We went to Sunset Beach and St. Pete Beach, both within 15-20 minutes of my parent's house. The weather was gorgeous all weekend and we all were a little red by the end of the trip. The only downside to our beach-going was a HUGE school of fish that had to be crossed before entering deeper waters. We all did it, but not without some screaming. And my fear of the ocean wouldn't let me stay out too long before thinking something was circling around my feet.

NEPB at OG: If you're not hip to the language of Abbey, this stands for the never-ending pasta bowl at Olive Garden, one of our favorite restaurants, or rather challenges, in the fall. Amy told Abbey earlier in the day that she could eat more bowls than her. This, of course, meant war. So the two trash talked for the rest of the day and throughout dinner as they struggled to stuff just one more fork of pasta into their mouths. Their arguing left room for a silent challenger to take the lead. That's right, my mom beat them both, finishing two whole bowls and making us all question where on her little body she put it all.

POM: Or Puddle of Mudd. As we left a bar in St. Pete on Saturday night, we walked by two tour buses. Abbey and I continued to walk by, but somehow, Amy struck up a conversation with a girl poking her head outside the bus window. Before we knew it, Amy was on the bus peeing. Then I was on the bus peeing. We chatted a bit with the band's bassist and who I assume were a bunch of roadies. Amy told him the lead singer was a Nirvana wannabe and we were back on our way. We didn't really realize how cool of a situation we were in until the next morning, even though I'm hardly a fan.

Swimming while drunk: Don't do it. At least don't jump into the deep end when you can't even walk straight. Abbey and Amy learned this the hard way.

I think this will have to become an annual tradition.