Ran a little bit late this morning because I didn't know what to wear. I'm spending the afternoon at one of our ad agencies and they are so freaking hip and thin... it's a little frustrating. I'm the client. So I'm more important, right? We pay them to work for us. Yet, when I walk through their doors, I feel like my first day at Painted Rock Elementary School where it's January of 4th grade and everyone has their friends and I'm the new kid wearing a jean jacket and jean skirt, because that was what was cool in San Jose, but definitely not cool here in Poway. And then the next week, when I am wearing my Girl Scout uniform and super proud of my patches, Dana Rethmeyer comes over and pulls down my knee high socks because it's not cool and makes fun of my shoes cause they aren't Keds. They're just white sneakers, but missing that important blue square is what makes it or breaks it on the playground. Effing Dana Rethmeyer.
So yeah, I was late because I was trying to find a hip outfit and finally just decided to wear jeans, flats and a flowey blue top that is comfortable with bright red lipstick. Eff it. I'm hip in my own way. I drive a 1972 Chevy Nova. I throw the best Halloween parties in North Texas. I don't care about their Mad Men coolness.
Which is why when I picked up my triple Espresso Con Panna at Starbucks and the lady asked for my name, I said Judy.
Judy? Who the eff is Judy? Where did THAT come from? Couldn't I have thought of something more cool like Raven or Cassandra or Chk!Chk!Chk! ???