Jen Scharpen Reading at "Can I Sit With You?", Redwood City, CA
Originally uploaded by GraceD
I’m still not fond of public speaking, but I did this and didn’t pass out. Of course it helped to have so many friends in the audience, along with my mom and Willow and John. And, honestly, getting to wear The Dress that I love so much was good, too. Earlier in the day, I was talking with Lisa Stone about how much our 11/12 year old boys appreciated reading Can I Sit With You? (buy it here, if you don’t have it yet) and what a relief it was for them to hear stories from adults who didn’t quite fit in when they were their ages. I think of it as a gift of perspective, a reminder that there’s a whole, big life beyond school. A supportive community always there on the bookshelf.
My mom came to my office a couple of hours before the reading started, and we had a chance to enjoy a quiet dinner together, which is always wonderful. My mom needs to start a blog. Seriously.
On the way home, Willow fell asleep, so I called Jenny and yakked in her ear for the 40 minute drive. She told me about this contest she’s having, (to win a Wii + WiiFit) and we started laughing so hard I almost drove off the freeway, and I even more almost peed my pants. I’m totally going to write about the Nordic Rider/ Clothes Hanger that I bought when the boys were little. Gawd.
I finally parked in my driveway, and then reached back to the middle seat behind the passenger seat to grab Willow’s left over supper (Niçoise salad, my little gourmand). I heard a sound just then, a Very Awful Hugely Bad sound. The sound of me sitting on the skirt of my dress while reaching back, stretching, just a little tiny bit too far. There was a used cup from Peet’s in the cupholder that I’d stretched over, and I clung to the hope that the sound came from scrinching up against the cup with my ribs while I was reaching back. I got the sleeping Willow inside, along with my bags and computer and the left over supper. I went to get my jammies on, and that is when I saw, in the vanity mirror in my bedroom, the rip. The NOT on the seam rip. The probably NOT repairable rip. THIS RIP:
actual rip = three inches 🙁
I’ve decided to withhold any actual crying until I try and sew it tonight. But, DAMN IT, I am so sad. We’re doing family portraits this weekend with Jen, and I am going to wear this dress. Hopefully it will be okay, even if it’s never really the same. She’s a photoshop master, but I don’t want to try her patience.