12:57 am: In dr ok
1:06 am: yes very humid hard getting this to work please let aj and your mom know love u all
2:32 pm: At border. Very chaotic
2:39 pm: No pictures. Taking pictures w camera. Will try upload later. Long line ahead. Crazy x 3 driving
8:25 pm: Got here ok crazy worse then I imaged. Have phone trouble.
*jpmd = my dad, volunteering at a pediatric hospital in haiti.
I identify with this quote probably too much for my own good.
It is possible to get mostly ready for a gala in 45 minutes if you can remain emotionally detached from the results. You will not rewash your hair, but you will curl it under. Pin it back like a halfhearted, second string debutante. You can spend 45 minutes bathing and grooming well enough, in a dusty bathroom listening to an old Ben Folds cd that skips every time it hits your partial print, coated fine in baby powder. Your favorite song is unaffected and you’ll sing it loudly, like a cheerful accusation or a theorem proved, out the backdoor to men gone by.
You’ll leave with a little black clutch with a hole in its liner that devours your business cards and mints. Teeter down the sidewalk annexed by ice to your car, safe as gool. Arrive, feeling overdressed, underdressed, un-dressed by this Crowd With Means. You’ll drink one diet coke, for once not up for anything stiffer. Check your texts surreptitiously during what should be a more emotional program. Leave your phone in your lap, under one cloth napkin, to alert your loins when a return message or late night call arrives. Sit smiling and nodding at Cyndis and Pricillas, making Polite and Enthusiastic Conversation, wonder if everyone feels a little phony in pearls.
You didn’t paint your fingernails and you’ll critique your hands as the MC goes overtime, time and a half. Two hands like a migrant worker in a field of pianists and Disney princesses. These hands, like this walk, made for purpose. That is good enough for you. Sneak off to the ladies room, spy on the band, sprawled on the country club couches like an after party, still waiting for their belated start. Aging dreads on fine fabrics, smoky laughs at muted inside jokes. You’ll want to stay out here. With them.
Eat three of your six strips of lean pork loin. Earnestly agree that the grilled vegetables are Very Good; Yes, crisp and flavorful. Do not add salt, which is gauche. Say goodbye to all the Mrs met for the first time, work to remain conspiratorial and flattering. Cooler to their husbands. It is important to send the clear message: You are friendly, not flirting. Drop off guest, drive home, walk in, pull your strapless bra out like a magic trick. Ta da. Drop a pinstriped wool dress to the floor. Step out, consider the battles it has encountered. Weddings and weddings, obligatory fundraisers, dances politely dodged and run ins with exes. Press it back into the garment bag like a superhero costume. Leave the pearls on the dresser. Exhale.
And she does it again. Emphases mine.
There is no “might try,” there is only do.
A stranger grabbed my hand to stop me from falling down the subway stairs. I love NYC.
Harmonizing Eight Days a Week. A perfect way to spend Saturday afternoon.
We have not had one the whole time we’ve been in NYC (5 years). I’m guessing my aunt realized this when she saw me toasting english muffins on the stove.
AMAZING!!! THANK YOU PAT!!!