Wacky Wednesday!

Surprise! I'm not dead. Now while that may come as a disappointment to some, hopefully I'll give you something fun for hump day (which conjures up visions of anything but camels).

I've considered myself somewhat of a fashion diva...on a low budget. I also have the illusion when I look in a mirror that I'm still a size 4.  Those who know me just peed themself. Bitches. I really was a size 4 when I married Forever Guy. Then I gave birth to twins, turned 50, hit menopause, and became a writer. I can't even push my arm through the leg of a size 4 pant now. But "magic mirror" lets me live the fantasy.

The fashion crave [or disaster] of 2013 has been leggings, or as my generation calls them "tights." Long tubes of opaque nylon material in various colors you wear under skirts and dresses (or ski pants - made great thermals back in the day) - not with a belly shirt.

The first "legging" sighting I experienced was at the mall in the early fall. A lady, older than moi, walked by sporting gray and black striped "tights" with a short, waist-rimming leather jacket and black ankle boots. I picked my jaw off the floor and thought about running after her to tell her she needed to cover up. Everything was visible from her panty line to the mole on her left derriere cheek, yet she strutted like a proud peacock. And no one reacted.

Here I'm thinking the poor old doll has wandered away from a nearby lockdown facility, her mind half gone along with her wardrobe. She waltzed into Dillards, the swankiest department store in my little town, conversing with the sales clerk at the jewelry counter and heading straightway to the expensive makeup counter. It was beneath the Lancome sign that I was introduced to the latest fashion statement. Three sales girls gushed over how chic "Dolly" looked and questioned where she found such darling "leggings." Leggings? As in acceptable leg coverings? Alone and not under something?

In unison, the three near-starved-to-death-dressed-to-kill clerks let their false, spidery lashes brush down their noses when they took in what I wore, glaring as if I was radioactive. Dress pants. What was I thinking?! I almost stripped down to my panty hose to feel more stylish (they were "tan") until I remembered they were reinforced with steel girders from the knee up. More like a vision of industrial strength bermuda shorts instead of a uniform thickness from top to bottom, fitting a "legging" appearance.

Now had my nylons been "sheer-to-the-waist" and I wore some silky "Secret" beneath instead of practical 100% cotton covered in tiny daisies and washed like a thousand times," I might have passed the judgment trio and maybe even given Dolly some stiff competition. Granted, I would have had to dump the prison-issued loafers and strapped some Jessica Simpson death traps on my swollen feet, not to mention "lift" a leather blazer and try to move gracefully with a two-ton metal detector ring dangling from the wrist, but there's a chance [like snow in Hell] that I could have pulled it off.

[No matter how much alcohol you pour in your eyes, you will never be able to erase the mental picture I've just seared into your brain.]

All the way home, and clear through the month of October until bravery allowed me to buy a pair, I swore I'd never be caught dead in public wearing something so vulgar. Then I tried a pair on.

Comfort - soft butter and angora type comfort. Black and white with a stark pattern to disguise the "lumps." They caressed my legs as I pulled [okay tugged] them upward, flipping the lycra over my backside like a large, tight elastic band, and settling them in an area on my torso where my waist used to exist. I turned this way and that in front of Magic Mirror, listening to the phantom"oohs and awes" whispering in my head. I didn't look half bad! [Or half good, but I didn't give a damn].

I slipped a black tunic that barely covered my cushiony backside curves, then topped it off with a long sweater that nearly hit mid thigh. I added bulky leg warmers over my boots, leaving only about six inches of my lycra-wrapped leg exposed. To distract from any exposed jiggling that might occur, I wrapped my neck in a sparkly scarf and sponged my lips ruby red. All "look here - not there" tactics. I'd transformed into a fashion diva -- a larger than lifesize version, but one nonetheless!

What surprised me more than the fact the leggings actually fit, was the new found sense of confidence I sported. I dared to break the rules and have some fun. And just like Dolly, I strutted the mall, the grocery store, restaurants, and even dared to wear them to work on casual Friday. I also bought a second pair and put them in my Christmas stocking.

Do I hope it's a fashion fad that will disappear in 2014? Oh hell yes. While they may be the latest and greatest, they look ridiculous on anyone older than six, regardless of body shape. But right now, I like looking fabulous at ridiculous. And I'll keep them until they're thread bare. The beggars really are comfortable and warm. After the craze wears off, they'll make great jammies!

How about you? What's the craziest fashion fad you've dared to wear?

BACK TO SCHOOL SUBURBIA STYLE

I know….it's been forever since I've stopped by. "Life" is my only excuse…oh…and I released "Designer Genes – TheBoyfriend Cut!" Yep, being an author, promoting myself as an author, and keeping up with the day job VISA dictates I still maintain, let alone pay attention to Forever guy and the family, has pretty much sucked my blogging time. But I thought I'd take a moment and share my latest morning giggle.

School has started. The minivan assault begins about 8:20 a.m.—an endless parade through my neighborhood to the elementary school at the top of the hill. I have a thirty second window between the brigade and the succession of yellow school buses to get through the intersection.

I've also noted the latest in "mommy attire" required for drop off. Coordinated workout gear. The fashion runways in New York don't compare to what I see in the mornings. White minivan "A" pulls into the drop off circle. Perky Mom A bounces (yes bounces) out of the driver's side and makes a full sweep of the car, complete with manicured fingertips drawing a sexy trail around the back fenders until she reaches the side door. Today, she's dressed in a purple ensemble with lime green stripes accentuating her curves. A rim of lime green peeks out of her purple sneakers and trims her ankles. Her hair is pulled into a thick ponytail just below the coifed "bump" and she makes a point of "swishing" said ponytail as if she's a racehorse leaving the track with the winners wreath circling her neck.

Minivan "B" pulls in behind "A," leaving enough room for Perky Mom B to take her fashion walk, sporting a little hot pink and black number. Same ponytail, full make-up as well, and a 12-rep toe warm-up to show off her muscular calves while she unbuckles Junior from his safety harness.

Minivan "C" is next, Perky Mom C offering stiff competition in her royal blue and neon yellow ensemble. Unlike Perky Moms A and Bin their thigh-hugging long shorts, however, Perky Mom C has chosen shorts barely qualifying to earn the title, and a sports bra. Her long legs deftly carry her in smooth sashay, drawing the attention of any male within a half-mile radius. She has also wrapped her hair in a messy bun (which I have discovered takes more time to look messy than curling every strand of hair) to allow as much skin exposure as possible. She does a deep bend to unlatch the side door, releasing her primped and coifed offspring. A lipstick stain adorns the cheeks of her children, followed by finger waves all the way to front doors.

Moms A and B, embraced in a tight purple-hot pink huddle and engaged in judgmental conversation, suddenly realize they have not shown sufficient affection to the fruit of their loins, and summon them from the playground to suffer an embarrassing display of lipsmack while their friends giggle behind the chainlink fence.

The choreographed movements of the three fashion divas moving around the hoods of their "tribe transporters" is worthy applause as three doors shut in synchronized succession. I can't help but wonder of the three, which ones will actually head for the gym.

In order for me to take my little darlings to school, the weather had to be worthy a news report or they were seriously late due to my failure to have them ready and out the door on time. Many a morning I wrapped in a robe, slipped my feet into fuzzy slippers, and shepherded my herd into the family van. If my hair was swept into a clip or brushed at all, it was purely accidental.

When I got to the school, I slowed to a speed I felt my children could handle, already instructing the child nearest the door to have the "hatch open," and when the open side door aligned with the front door of the school, I yelled "jump!" The last one out of the van ran alongside until the door was closed again. This way, I figured I trained them to break track records in high school and earn a scholarship, or if they dropped out and became homeless, they'd have the skills necessary to hop a freight train.

I did manage to screech out "have a nice day" before leaving skid marks on the roadway in my retreat. I had exactly 7.5 hours to myself before they'd return and I wasn't going to waste a single minute.

So are you a Perky Mom or sought by Child Protective Services when it comes to school drop off? Do you dress for the other perky moms or, like me, figure if you're coordinated from the waist up that's all that matters?

Thanks for stopping by and if you pick up a copy of "Riley's Pond" or "Designer Genes," a review on Amazon or Barnes & Noble would be greatly appreciated! Happy Tuesday!

I'd like to thank the "Academy"...oops. Not an Oscar? Close enough!

Wow! I'm so honored...seriously! I blog like every third Saturday on the fifth odd month of an even numbered year. Yep, that often! (Sorry my dear, sweet followers). I try to do more, but when I decided I had to put my butt in the chair and finish the edits on Designer Genes if I wanted to release it in April, everything else had to be shelved. However, my dear friend, life coach, talented author, and all around beautiful person Sandy Rowland, http://sandylrowland.weebly.com/index.html isn't about to let me slip behind the curtain and watch from the sidelines. She's nominated my blog, such as it is, for The R.E.A.L.I.T.Y. Blog Award! As part of my thank you, I'm paying it forward by announcing her book "Conquered" is FREE until this Sunday! Of course it's the welcome mat to Apollo's Gift (the cover alone is a present). Here's the links to both.

http://www.amazon.com/Apollos-Gift-Greek-Gods-ebook/dp/B00B4ES4SQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358922360&sr=1-1&keywords=Apollo%27s+gift+by+Sandy+L.+Rowland

           

http://www.amazon.com/CONQUERED-Kivronian-Vampire-Series-ebook/dp/B008GTHGTA/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1355242952&sr=1-1&keywords=conquered+by+sandy+l.+rowland

Okay, now onto the purpose of this blog. (There's a purpose? You're not just blindly walking an endless word path into utter nonsense? Well, maybe.)  This award comes with a list of rules:

Visit the blog of the person who nominated you, thank them, and acknowledge them on your blog.

Answer the questions below and nominate up to 20 bloggers whom you feel are awesome and deserving of notice. Visit their blog and let them know.

Cut and paste the award to your wall. (check out the upper left hand corner...I'm such a techno spaz!)

The questions: (Uh-oh. This is where I have to expose a bit of real self. Now would be a good time to check out Sandy's books)

If you could change one thing, what would you change?


I wish I hadn't wasted so much time in life trying to please others and fretting over their opinions. I still struggle with insecurity and the fetal position is my "comfy curl." The decision to become a writer professionally is probably the most life altering change (next to menopause) I've undergone. I wish I'd made the decision ten years ago. I've missed out on a lot of years of that inner joy a writer feels when they pen "the end" to a story.

If you could repeat any age, what would that be?

Okay, I've regained self-composure, changed my pants and the hiccups are almost gone. Seventeen with the knowledge I have now. There's a couple of bitches I'd love a chance to teach a life lesson, not to mention a couple of boys I'd like to hear sing soprano.

For real? Forty-five. The kids were grown, my first grandchild had arrived, and I felt physically and mentally sound. Of course that all changed at age forty-six (see paragraph above). Insanity is now my reality.

What is the one thing that really scares you?

Dogs. My fear of the canine species is paralyzing. I was mauled as a child and the psychological scars are deep. In this case, "size" doesn't matter. Yes, I've always had a dog (my own did not attack) and currently have a loveable black Lab, but he's the only one who doesn't lift the hairs on my neck when I see him. I literally froze in the middle of the road yesterday when I spied a Pitbull running loose near my car. If the owner hadn't caught it and put it in their car, I would have fainted and been ran over. Two cars were stopped and honking. I didn't hear them.

On a more personal level, I fear failure, and not just professionally (although I wonder sometimes if I'm going to make it). I worry I'm not the best wife, mother, daughter, paralegal. I do know I rank *5 stars* in the grandma department, but they're still young and impressionable.

If you could be someone else for the day, who would it be?

In spite of my quirkiness, I really like myself. After all these years, I can honestly admit to liking the person who stares back at me from the mirror. She's aged a bit, put on a few pounds, but has great hair. And a sense of humor. She makes me laugh when I feel like crying. It's taken me a while to get to a place where I accept myself the way I am, flaws and all.

If I truly had a fantasy 24 hours being someone else, I'd probably pick Nora Roberts or Stephenie Meyers and make sure all royalties for that day went in MY account!

And my nominations are:

Calisa Rhose
Sonya Weiss
Suzanne Lilly
Brenda Maxfield
Sandy Bruney
Lynn Lovegreen
Ruth Casie   



Thanks for stopping by and my nominees...thanks for playing along. Do stop by and visit their sites. They've all got great stories to share!  Have a great weekend.