I had ink all over my fingers from writing two hundred place cards with a calligraphy pen. My back hurt from bending over the desk. And I had less than fifteen minutes to transform myself from a haggard wench to a demure lady.
(more) I could already hear the guests arriving. I wished they could have just sat in their car and passed the time grooving to Santana tunes, like Black Magic Woman, instead of prancing in early and expecting their host to give them one-on-one attention and be all impressed by their over-promptness.
I like that song, Black Magic Woman.
Anyway, fifteen minutes later, my hair was in a tight bun and I adorned a pale blue strapless gown and red-red lipstick. I looked at myself in the mirror, while practicing my demure voice.
"Yooh. Yooh aah a byooteeh. Aaa ooo aaa. Gaaat a blaaack maaajik wooomaaan..." I sang and did a little jig to pep myself up.
Then I heard frantic footsteps, so I stopped just as my cousin burst in.
"Meg! Meg, your hands are all inky!" she yelped. (She doesn't really scream, she modulates her voice, so it sounds more like a yelp.)
"Yes, I wish I had some gloves to cover them up," I said, dejectedly.
"No, don't cover them! You know that Mister Theodore guy we only ever see at fancy functions scoffing down hors d'oeuvres? He's saying he did your beautiful calligraphy himself! Come on out now, and show everyone your inky hands."
Indignantly, I made for the door. She stopped me suddenly.
"Hang on. Have you heard that song, Black Magic Woman?"
"Um. Never heard it in my life, no idea what you're talking about."
"Hm. Thought I heard it on my way to your room. Anyway, never mind..."(less)
The men in my life can't seem to get anything done.
Let me switch that to 'most' of the men in my life, I'm covering my ass same way they do.
So how does a team of women figure out a way to rebuild a house? Apparently a lot(more) easier than a team of men.
As most of you know, we lost our house this past summer during the nearly-unheard-of-in-NJ hurricane.
It's been slow-going trying to figure out how to fix the mess left in Irene's wake. Yeah,I have two brothers and my Dad is still with us but my Dad doesn't count since he's about to turn 85 and my brothers...they're a whole 'nother story. Lets just say that there seems to be some sort of automatic get-out-of-anything-free card if you have kids.
I willingly took on this crazy huge responsibility because I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. Admittedly I thought I'd get very little help from the boys in the family but not this little.
Sure, my younger brother's been helping out a bit but the realistic part of me understands that since his wife became his ex-wife and he's crashing with me, he kinda has no choice and everything he's doing is with his future-self in mind.
My older brother, the one who has an incredibly well-paying job can't seem to get his balls back from his wife and he knows he'll get his 3rd anyway(someday) so why bother?
Every single drop of help has come from women.
An angel named Angel has organized a benefit to help raise money since the insurance company won't pay and banks won't lend money to folks in their 80's.
Angel's done more than all the boys put together.
Miracles, it seems, are more likely with a lady involved. (less)