Let's face facts. We all have stupid ideas from time to time. It does seem to me that I have more than my fair share (see Adam Popcorn), but we're not going to get in to Fate's slighted hand again. In any case, I have placed wearing my beautiful pure white dress to school on what happened to be a rainy day (have we talked about my school's mud? it's red) firmly into that not-such-good-idea folder.
Let's rewind a year. Last year Katie called me on my totally lame Halloween-ness. (Again.) It's true. I'm a complete party-pooper. I'm trying really hard right now to think of a Halloween when I wasn't either an angel or a witch, but nothing is coming... Oh! I was a Gypsy once. Anything more than that would have taken more creativity than I felt like giving to the holiday. So we decided last year that this year I would not lame with Katie. The plan was that Katie would be Elphaba
(Wicked. If you don't know about it, google it. and then help me convince my dad that he has to take our family to see it) and I would be Galinda.
(I'd like to think that's because I'm blond and not because I bear any resemblance to her in the personality district. Right, Katie? Right?)
Katie reminded me occasionally throughout the year (and this week), but it wasn't until this morning at when Katie walked in fully decked out in costume that I actually remembered. It was an awesome costume. Especially the shoes. I love your shoes Katie! Anyway, after that kind of shaming I had to go home and rifle through my closet. I came out with my white dress. And the hat Andrea brought me back from Finland. I looked at the clock and thought, "Oh, gosh, I don't have time to curl my hair," then I looked at the mirror and thought, "Oh, good, I don't have to." First time in a long time that my hair and I have gotten on together.
It was raining at school. My heels kicked up mud. It was hard concentrating in Gov--er, GOPO. Not that it isn't always, but especially so today. Anyway. Bad idea. The good news is that my dress is still white. The bad news is that it is possible that half the school has seen my slip. I don't know because there are too many layers to that dress to keep track of them all. And slips are, you know, slippery.
I went straight home and (after humming a few bars of Loathing) and put on the roomiest pants I could find and a sweat shirt. I've finally realized why I wasn't born a princess. I don't think princesses get to wear big ugly sweat shirts or painted up pants. They have to wear beautiful dresses with many layers and stiff, gorgeous fabric all the time. Poor them. They can't spill milk all over themselves or run through rain and kick up red dirt onto the back of their legs. I'm grateful for my jeans and my oversized sweaters. Bless them.
My weekend has now begun. Tonight I have a party (what? you thought I had no social life? just because you're right doesn't mean that you need to rub it in), tomorrow there's a hike (if it isn't pouring) and I'm making caramel apples with Katie and watching Sherlock. (It's a modern remake of Sherlock Holmes from BBC and it's so much better than it sounds. The plot holes are gaping but the cleverness of the lines is more than enough to make up for that. It's on PBS's website.) Monday and Tuesday are days off. I love long weekends. They're gifts from God and a reluctant DOE.
I'm supposed to be cleaning right now so that my poor mother (husbandless while my father is enjoying the fall weather in Boston) doesn't have to. You notice I always blog when I'm supposed to be doing things? Anyone else seeing a pattern?