so, what are you wearing?


First, TGIF, friends. It’s been a long week of confusing weather (rain, sun, warm, cold); full moons; and multiple dinners of grilled cheese sandwiches because I haven’t felt like going to the grocery store (and at least I have that! Poor Miss Carlos is starving). Tonight I’m looking forward to a disco nap and then an evening out with Tina and her husband. I think, if the disco nap works, that we’re going to see some rock-n-roll. Tina and I have decided to gussy up a bit. Dresses and heels were thrown about in our conversation. By the by, that leads me to ask: why when I ask Tina what she is wearing we discuss heels, accessories, coat selection, and the like, yet, when I ask another friend, it is received as an invitation to phone sex?  But the larger issue here is coat checks. Lawrence is a civilized town (don’t laugh) so why can’t we have coat checks at the local establishments? Tonight it’s supposed to drop down to the 30s. If I’m going to be wearing anything other than jeans and a gigantic sweater I’m going to need a coat. Preferably it will be my new sheepskin coat that is in perfect condition and fits like it was hand-tailored for me.  I got it at an estate sale for 20 bucks! It’s gorgeous and demands to be worn with purple knee-high boots (which I don’t have and don’t anticipate purchasing). But it weighs a ton and does not easily toss over the arm in a whimsical and jaunty fashion. It needs to be handed over a counter to a nice lady who, in exchange, hands me a token. Old school? Perhaps.

I start my car with a button. Sometimes I need a little old school.


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