I’ve just been to see 27 Dresses with my friend L. Nice movie, entertaining. And a good opportunity to look at James Marsden and Ed Burns. It was just about how I thought it would be, but I didn’t really mind that. The best friend, whom I will have to Google, since I know I’ve seen her before, was my favorite. OH, I think she was in The Wedding Planner. My brain synced some info for once.
It’s a quiet day here. We made it to church a few minutes late, due to wardrobe difficulties (me) and a knock-down dragout fight (my kids). Actually it was just a little hair-pulling and a scuffle over brushing teeth. There were tears (theirs). I just cried on the inside. But had a miraculous recovery after dropping them off at Sunday School, then going to St*rbucks Church, as is my ritual. I’m counting on God realizing that I get much more out of that one quiet hour with a book and a latte (venti, skinny with hazelnut, 3 Spl*nda) than I might if I sat through the service. If He doesn’t, well, I’m all right with it.
This is just about a day of bliss for me, as Sundays go. St*rbucks, a mid-day movie with a friend, and then the return of the babysitter later this evening so that I can play the evening poker tournament at the casino. Throw in a couple of games of Sorry with my son here in a few minutes, and some other equivalent activity with my daughter, and it’s a pretty good day. Tomorrow will be a solid day of Mommy-ness, so I’m not feeling much guilt.
I have to write about my unreasonable attachment to my new Frye harness boots. I’ve wanted them for no less than 3 years, maybe longer, and finally ordered them a couple of weeks ago. They’re brown, and perfect. I’m not sure another pair of footwear has ever made me feel so like myself. (I told you it was an unreasonable attachment.) I find any excuse to wear them, and have maybe quadrupled the number of days on which I wear jeans, just so I can wear the boots. Pathetic, maybe, but it’s all I have. I have boots. I love them. Maybe someday, I’ll even wear them for their intended use (which, probably, isn’t so I can look kick-ass and capable). Maybe someday, I will slip one into a stirrup and hoist my large backside into a saddle (poor horse). Or muck stalls. Or ride a Harley. Maybe not, and I’m okay with that. ‘Cause for now, it’s all about the boots.