Last weekend I went to the Kathy & Judy convention with my sister Peggy and my cousin Cathy. The K&J convention is a yearly gathering for fans of their show on WGN radio in Chicago. Yes, I spent the weekend with "girlfriends" (that's what we're called) whose median age was probably 60, and all of you haters who are snickering at me right now are invited to kiss my ass.

I took notes, which caused Peggy to gaze at me wonderingly and say, "You're the weiredest person in the world."

2:00
Judy Markey, one of the people we're there to see, talks to Peggy as we stand in line waiting to check in. It's about 2,000 degrees in the hotel lobby, and there are about 2,000 Girlfriends waiting in line.

"I have that same suitcase!" Judy tells Peggy as she passes by. Peggy and I have heart attacks, and turn on our charm to encourage her to talk to us some more.

"Oh!" Peggy chirps. I start shoving my suitcase (which is the same as theirs) towards Judy so that maybe she'll talk to me too.

"Did you pay full price for yours?" Judy asks.

"No! Peggy says, "I got mine at Kohl's!" (I wouldn't have admitted that, especially not to Judy)

"Oh," says Judy. "I paid full price for mine." And she and her suitcase rolled off into the sunset. It would be our only conversation with her. Coincidence?

Here are Peggy and Cathy singing along with performers from Menopause: The Musical.

3:34
Peggy agrees to share a bed with Cathy in our hotel room, but says, "I'm just worried that our skin might touch. I don't like touching skin."

We visited many booths and signed up for drawings and received mirrors and pens and other goodies. Peggy took a walk on the wild side at the tattoo table.

We talked to Kathy so many times that it became embarrassing. We just kept thinking of things to tell her.

8:12 p.m.
Amy: "I shouldn't have any more wine; I'm on fertility medicine."

Peggy: "If you're pregnant, that baby's going to have three heads."

9:30 p.m.
Peggy: "I want a picture with Steve Cochran (another WGN radio personality)! I want a picture with Steve Cochran! I'm so nervous! My back is sweating!"

And the evening's last quote came from Peggy, who fussed for a good 45 minutes about her sleepwear, the temperature in the room, the water she wanted to drink, the coffee she wanted in the morning, the fact that there was only one coffee cup available in the room, and the bedspread she wanted Cathy to keep off of her ("People screw on this!").

I expressed sympathy to Cathy for having to share a small bed with this bundle of nattering neediness, and Peggy's reply was:

"EVERYONE ALWAYS FEELS SORRY FOR CATHY. WHAT ABOUT ME?"