Monday, March 30, 2009

Monday...
























I hate Mondays. I don't work outside my home, but I hate Mondays all the same. I've always hated Mondays. When I was about 8, someone gave me a plaque of a basset hound (I think it's a basset, it might be a beagle. I'd have to look and I don't feel like it) wearing sunglasses and the caption is, "It's not easy being A Friday-sort of person in a Monday-sort of world."

Sums it up perfectly.

It was a busy weekend - on Friday, I finished up the final re-read of After the Storm. The changes were minor - just enough to tighten the story, but not change it. It wasn't a lot of work, just a matter of wrapping up the final chapters and going into the file to make the changes. Not a big deal at all, really.

Saturday, my husband and I went to his 20 Year HS reunion. I looked forward to it, simply because it was a night out, which is a creature so rare and elusive, I've only seen about five in almost nine years.

Now, normally, I'm not one for big crowds. They make me uneasy and I'm much happier away from them. But this was interesting because, since I wasn't expected to know anyone (or do much more than say, "It's nice to meet you,") I could just sit there and watch everyone - all the while listening to them. And that was cool.

There were the regular people - you know, the ones who dressed casually, but nice. They were the majority - the dress was business casual, and they looked nice, but comfortable. (An aside, I bought new shoes to wear and they sucked. They looked so cute, but hurt like anything. I was miserable.)

Then there were those who seemed a bit overdressed. Not ball gowns and tuxedos - but more like something you'd wear to a wedding. This was mostly the women. A suit's a suit's a suit (with the exception of the tux, of course) so it's kind of difficult to look over-dressed in a business suit. But it is easy to go overboard with a fancy dress. Some women did - they looked very nice, mind you - but they looked a bit out of place.

And then...

Well....

There were some who had me wondering if they even owned a mirror.

One guy showed up in a crushed velvet blazer that looked like he'd Bedazzled the hell out of it (I called him Rhinestone Cowboy all night.) For those of you who might not know (or watch late night television), this is a Bedazzler. And this guy had these swirly, paisley-looking designs all over this black (or maybe it was navy blue - the lights were dim, it was hard to tell) crushed velvet blazer. All he needed was a sequined belt buckle and sequined 10-gallon hat... And the funny thing, his date looked wonderful (I'd have killed for her shoes. They were teh awsumest, evah!) So I have to wonder how it was she didn't give him the fish-eye and say, "Really, honey? You're wearing that?" (and any woman worth her salt knows that really means, "Are you blind? That's the ugliest shirt/hat/pair of pants/shoes I've ever seen!")

However, Rhinestone Cowboy looked all -GQ compared to the woman who showed up looking like a stripper.

Oh yes.

A white stretchy, spandex-y looking camisole. Spandex-y looking shimmering jean-type things. She looked trashy.

Now, I saw a few people in jeans (and I so wanted to be one of them, damn it!) and they looked nice. But this woman... whoa... she looked like (as my mom used to say) a 42nd Street Hooker.

(And, the kicker? I found out later, by overhearing the used-car-salesman-guy-who-looked-like-Larry-from-Three's Company that she was the Prom Queen.)

EEEEK!

Ahem. Apparently no one told her that though the shiny jeans were different, they were meant for a different sort of room. One more likely to have a pole in it.

/cattiness

So, all in all, it was fun to sit and chat with some real nice people I'll probably never see again. And there's nothing like eavesdropping without worry about getting caught. Peoplewatching/listening is a great tool, because it helps you pick up dialogue and mannerisms that you can incorporate into characters. I love to go to the mall and just watch, for that reason alone.

Well, anyway, yesterday was spent with my feet on the foot massager the Girl gave me for Christmas (my poor feet) and when they didn't hurt quite so much, I sent off After the Storm to my editor. Keep your fingers crossed on that.

The rest of the day?

Spent it watching Planet Earth on Discovery. If you haven't seen it - you should. I ordered the DVD set (because there are a few ocean ones that I keep missing and I'm sick of missing, so now I'll be able to watch them whenever I want.) I love shows like this (Blue Planet: Seas of Life is next on my to-buy list) but I'm such a soft-hearted weenie that I feel awful whenever something gets killed. And when that something is a penguin, or a baby animal - oh noes! I get all choked up - how's that for total weeniness? I know it's survival of the fittest and all, but -oh my god, that shark just grabbed a whole seal in one bite! EEEK!

But the photography is gorgeous and it reminds me of how beautiful (and brutal and violent and ohmygodnotanotter!!!) our planet really is. So, if you haven't seen it (and the awful scenes really aren't all that awful. Honest. Not much in the way of blood and gore) go out and do it. Now. You'll thank me.

And that brings us to...

Monday.

And a new week.

And hopefully new posts.

We'll see.

1 comment:

smsarber said...

Just great! Funny you mention the stripper dress at the reunion. When I was still drinking my best friend at the time worked overnights at the post office, and about once a week he'd come by at seven in the morning and wake me up. It was strip club time. I didn't care, he was paying for the booze. Not that I minded the dancers, mind you. Hell, I had dated one in high school. She wouldn't even dance for us though. And almost every week we went there was another girl we went to school with dancing. I dropped out, so I won't be invited to any reunions, but it would be funny to see the hot-pants/crop-tops/fishnets/too much eye make-up, hairspray and lipstick parade.

The really funny thing: My high school wasn't very big. Grad class in '94 was like 340. I think of the 190 or so girls in that class at least 40% became strippers. That's why I don't feel bad for dropping out.derri