07.25.08
And it starts…
In preparation for my friend Adeline Moritz’s debutante party in Savannah this weekend.
All ladies know primping for any remotely formal event begins, at the very least, forty-eight hours in advance.
Try saying that with a straight face.
Despite the cynicism, I’m embarking on a grooming odyssey of sorts.
Seven o’clock Friday night will find me adequately tweezed, shaved, moisturized, spritzed, glossed, shined, scrubbed, polished and otherwise spruced up fantastically.
I will look, at best, marginally different than I do on the average Saturday morning. But I will, however, feel famished, exhausted and thus ultimately satisfied with my image.
It’s really exactly like sleeping in an hour late on a manic Monday morning, but skipping breakfast to shower. Honestly. Heh. What a morbid realization.
Ah well, it’s for my health. I will certainly benefit from a few days without burgers, fries, pizza and half-and-half in my coffee (these, by the way, comprise the building blocks of my diet). I’m fairly certain I’ve layered fresh nail polish over the old chippy stuff for at least three months. My fingernails might benefit from the oxygen exposure.
07.21.08
Hello, WordPress.
It’s been a while. Note: If you don’t update your blog, nobody reads your blog.
I returned from a family vacation to the Outer Banks Saturday. I’d never ventured to that part of the state before… Gosh, I’ve been missing out on a lot. I’m in love with it. Unfortunately, I’m not gonna launch into anything particularly articulate or descriptive. Somewhere along the road I picked up a bug, and I really feel rather gross right now.
…Something I totally do not have time for. Friday night, it’s back on I-95 — this time headed south to a friend’s debutante party in Savannah. I’ve yet to purchase a dress for this shin-dig… I’m pretty unsure about the whole thing. What does one really wear to a debutante party??? I’ve never been to a debutante party of any description… the most formal event I’ve attended was senior prom… Yeah. I’ve never ventured farther south than Charleston… (if you ignore several frenzied layovers at ATL) Oh, and I’m definitely not a shopper. I despise trying stuff on. Aaaaaaaah.
But for now, I’m gonna pop several Tums, head home from work, crawl in bed with some crackers and Gatorade, and try my best not to projectile vomit on anybody today.
Wish me luck!
