When my mother went to her 10-year high school reunion, I was only 10 years old -- whoops, did we all just do the math? -- but I remember specifically her freaking out about what to wear. She was on a mission to prove that the Grenada Hills High bad ass had turned into one classy lady. She chose a white jump suit with rhinestones lining the zipper. AWESOME. A JUMPSUIT. WHITE. WITH BLING. It was 1977, but still a rockstar statement.
For the entire month of August, I have been stressing about what to wear to my reunion. I'm embarrassed to think so hard about it, but that's part of the dilemma; I want to wear something that looks great, but also looks like I'm not trying too hard. Mission not accomplished.
I am an expert on-line shopper. I blow on my fingers and dazzle others with my ability to buy perfect fitting clothes AND SHOES by looking at the 2x2 picture on the internet. It's a bizarre talent, a mystical touch from the gods. I bought a dress on line for the reunion that I thought would be Understated Elegance. It was a brownish-purple wrap-around dress, 3/4 sleeves. It was nice -- corporate hot, but a little stuffy. So, I decided to do some live shopping. The reason I took up on-line shopping is because if I go in person, I am no longer focused on the task at hand. I, all of the sudden, need damask cowboy boots or paten-leather bathrobes. I have no control. The internet allows me to focus and though there is quite a bit of surfing, it's not the same as the maddening bombardment of beautiful clothes and must-have shoes that swarm and circle around me in a hallucinogenic haze the instant I enter Nordstroms. Must. Have. (Fill in the blank.) But I braved my madness and went. I found a beautiful, black strapless silk dress with an A-line skirt. A little nicer than I anticipated on getting, but simple enough to downplay. There was, however, this bow with a stupid rhinestone ornament attached at the waist of the dress that I immediately razor-bladed off when I got home. That's a good way to to ruin a good dress; by adding rhinestones. This dress did not need such jazzing up. Though I was focused during dress shopping, I did not escape the pull of the shoe department. I mean, come on. And I bought the most gushy dusty light-blue wedge heels with a rounded toe to go with my dress. I was in love with myself in my new outfit. I can't wait to reveal to the Samo High class of 85 what a classy lady I've become.
I love my husband because he’s kind of a dick. But he’s soft with me and his lip quivered at our wedding. I love my daughters. They’re brilliant and funny, and I’m here to kick down mountains that get in their way. I’m a vegan, and all is right in my world because of it. I can still beat the neighborhood in HORSE because I have a bad-ass set shot. Justice is served well through fair food, and scarcity would be a myth if we shared more, damn. Yo soy una mezcla which leaves me mixed up sometimes. My commute bike’s name is Loops and she’s my favorite kind of car. I wish I had written Chronicle of a Death Foretold. I’ve endured 54 hours of tattoo work. But above all, I fiercely believe in the underdog.
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" - Kerouac (As told to me by Marigoldie)