Snippets from a day

my daughter has really cool friends. I drove a car load of teenagers to the nearest small city for an afternoon of shopping. I just tried to be silent and unobtrusive, but I couldn't help listening. These kids have plans, and they will go somewhere. In my car today was a future astronomer who plans to reinstate Pluto as a planet with quantifiable proof one day, a future doctor who wants to go into research, a future engineer who described in detail how his Destination Imagination group used materials from model airplanes, scrap metal, a broken mirror, balsa wood and other scavenged materials to build a laser with light refraction, one girl who hasn't quite decided what she'll do, but she knows that it will involve a college education and my womanchild whose current goal is to work in the social service end of criminal justice. All of this came out while discussing next week's prom. Hearing the conversation switch from dresses and tuxes, hair and manicures, boutonnieres and corsages was fun and heady.

Books have replaced Easter baskets, and I don't have to worry about the temptation of jelly beans and chocolate bunnies. Is it strange to give your daughter The Complete Works of Allen Ginsberg for Easter? Well, yeah, it is, but she's wanted it for a long time, and I wanted to give her something special, something that she had hoped for. My indulgence for myself was The Portable Dorothy Parker. I've known of her wit for a long time. I didn't know until today that she had attempted suicide multiple times, one of which was instigated over her frustration at not feeling able to write the novel she felt her career needed. It makes me wonder if those who can so richly see the humor in life are also especially sensitive to its pain.

Last week, I had another completely embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. I was at the womanchild's school to sign some paperwork for her to take a special self-paced class that meets after school and on weekends for the rest of the school year. It's something she wanted to do to get an additional credit. The guidance counselor used to be my next door neighbor in another town, and I was in her office. When I stood up, my skirt fell completely off, and there I was in my slip. That was the final straw. Baggy britches I can handle, accidental nudity is beyond the pale. It was time to buy new clothes.

While the kids were cruising the only real mall in our region, I was trying on armfuls of clothing. I ended up buying just one pair of black pants, and a spring green top that can work as either shirt or jacket depending on how it's worn. However, everything I tried on went on my body easily. No straining buttons, no bra revealing gaps at the bosom, not even a muffin top. (I won't comment on the size of the tummy, but it wasn't spilling over the pants I tried on.) I don't remember the last time that happened. I could actually look at the aspects of a piece of clothing that make the difference between fit and flattery. Looking in the dressing room mirror at my half dressed self still isn't fun, but looking better in clothing is. I'm still not going to buy too much, but I love knowing that clothing that I can like and wear is out there.

All in all, it was a good and tiring day. I'm glad to be home with my kitties at rest on me. Soon, I'll be curled up with Dorothy Parker and wishing for a chic hat and speakeasy gin. After my leisure reading time is over, I'll spend some Bible time before bed. The juxtaposition of the two could seem head spinning, but it's the way I'm made, and tonight, it's part of what I'm celebrating.

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teenagers, shopping, Allen Ginsberg, Dorothy Parker