June 17 Part II
I goofed off today. And I’m not making any apologies for it.
I wrote an episode of Charlotte and I’m happy with it. I’ll have to rewrite it, but at least I won’t have to throw it out. It’s between Anne Bonny and Charlotte in the jail, just prior to Anne’s trial.
I was eager to get my errands done, so, off to Larchmont. Couldn’t get to the restaurant where I wanted to eat lunch because they were putting in a new sidewalk and forced all the businesses to close – the town better reimburse those businesses, that’s all I have to say.
Now, clothes shopping is hardly a favorite pastime of mine, but I was in the mood. I shopped some stores I know in both Larchmont and Greenwich that have good merchandise at good prices. They both had 50% off those prices today. So, I got three designer dresses, three Banana Republic shirts (they’re an addiction of mine), a skirt and a sarong. Final cost: $45, give or take a few cents.
And everything fits me as though it was made for me.
The best thing about working wardrobe on B’way is what I learned about how to shop for clothes. Add that to what I know looks good on me and . . .when I put my mind to shopping, I can kick some serious ass without breaking the budget.
Did a bit of light grocery shopping. Will turn my attention to Elusive Prayers for a bit before heading in to the city.
Howled with laughter at an article in a fashion magazine dealing with “how to tip the help” when you’re invited to the Hamptons, et al, for the weekend: $100 to this one, $50 to the cook, $50 to the laundress – um, excuse me, if I go somewhere for the weekend, I bring clean clothes and do my own damn laundry when I get home! Oh, and bring your host a beach cover-up costing $465. Huh? For that, I can fly to Paris. Paris or East Hampton? Not much of a decision there, if you ask me! It’s hilarious.
It made me realize how much I love the life I live, and how I certainly do not long for a life of so-called “luxury”. I keep reading all these articles about how women past 40 are “invisible”. I don’t feel invisible. I get more attention now than when I was twenty, that’s for damn sure (whether I want it or not, sometimes). I’ve never been denied access to any club or party, and I always get good tables at restaurants. So, what’s the problem? I sure wouldn’t want to be a teenager again – every year just gets better and better!
So I can read articles like the one mentioned above and laugh my head off. Because I don’t want that life. And once I have my house – I’ll have everything I want and need to be happy. The house is really the only outstanding piece of the puzzle at this point. Everything else is on its way to where I envision it.
It’s attainable, and I don’t feel as though I’m running out of time.
That’s a good place to be.