So Saturday night four ladies trekked through driving rain to the city for dinner at
Marie Laveau, a New Orleans-style restaurant with amazing onion rings and green beens and awful soft shell crab. Since all but one of us are old, married moms, we headed back to Filipa's place to continue the party at her bachelorette pad in the comfort of our sweatpants.
It was so nice to not have to catch the train to get home at the end of the evening. The only limiting factor to our night of fun was my own tiredness, as I insisted on going to bed even before the six-months-pregnant lady was ready.
Filipa had been raving about the view from the platform atop her building, so on Sunday morning she took Erin and I up there. It was terrifying to climb, like, a thousand year old spiral staircase and then a rickety wooden ladder through a hole in the roof, but once we got up there it was totally worth it. As you can see.
The view took my breath away and I was so grateful to live in Stockholm and so, so grateful for the wonderful friends I have met here.
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