Moll's New Bling-y Bag
OH WELL, blew the NaBloPoMo. I suppose I could have been a ninja about it and gone to the library to use one of the computers to get online and post, but OH WELL.
And, that's the story these days - I'm giving myself a break. I don't do that well and I don't do that often enough. The only time I get a break is when my body gets into cahoots with my psyche and forces me to stop using ingenious methods like an asthma attack or anxiety so vicious that I can't leave the house. "Stop!" says the bod, "you move too fast/got to make the morning last."
(Boomers - sorry to get the '59th Street Bridge Song' stuck in your heads. The antitdote to rid yourself of 'Feeling Groovy' is a bracing round of another New York song, 'Miss You' by the Rolling Stones.
I've been walking Central Park
Singing after dark
People think I'm crazy
I've been stumbling on my feet
Shuffling through the street
People ask me, "What's the matter with you boy?"
Yeah, that's more like it, "stumbling...shuffling..." To hell with feeling groovy on the Queensboro Bridge, which is a nasty bit of road anyway, known best for punishing runners on the NYC Marathon course.)
Anyway, I did cut myself some slack without resorting to illness or panic. Instead, I ran, walked, played, planted heirloom tomato seeds and chased the hubs around the house. I also bought Molly a purse that is not a Marc Jacob's knock-off from a street vendor, but rather a shiny, lustrous Kathy Van Zeeland bag from our local mall. Please observe Molly taking stock of her prize near the Capitola Mall's food court. She loves it, will use it everywhere and with every outfit. I particularly look forward to seeing her wear this fancy, shiny thing along with her gloomy skater guy look - giant black skateboard sweatshirt with hood up in that dark monk manner, jeans with flared hems that drag on the ground, tattered Vans. And the shiny bag. Oh, to be 16 again with the license to mix up the fashion rules (as long as your peers like it, your high school circle will damn a look faster - and meaner - than Anna Wintour can reject couture lines from the pages of Vogue)
Must close here. Therapy appointment at 9:30 this morn. An hour and a half! No wussy 50 minute shrink session for this stumbling, shuffling crazy girl.
In the meantime, isn't my girl beautiful? I, of course, think so. I also wonder on a daily if not hourly basis how a Popular High School Chick sprang from my uterus 16 years ago.
And, that's the story these days - I'm giving myself a break. I don't do that well and I don't do that often enough. The only time I get a break is when my body gets into cahoots with my psyche and forces me to stop using ingenious methods like an asthma attack or anxiety so vicious that I can't leave the house. "Stop!" says the bod, "you move too fast/got to make the morning last."
(Boomers - sorry to get the '59th Street Bridge Song' stuck in your heads. The antitdote to rid yourself of 'Feeling Groovy' is a bracing round of another New York song, 'Miss You' by the Rolling Stones.
I've been walking Central Park
Singing after dark
People think I'm crazy
I've been stumbling on my feet
Shuffling through the street
People ask me, "What's the matter with you boy?"
Yeah, that's more like it, "stumbling...shuffling..." To hell with feeling groovy on the Queensboro Bridge, which is a nasty bit of road anyway, known best for punishing runners on the NYC Marathon course.)
Anyway, I did cut myself some slack without resorting to illness or panic. Instead, I ran, walked, played, planted heirloom tomato seeds and chased the hubs around the house. I also bought Molly a purse that is not a Marc Jacob's knock-off from a street vendor, but rather a shiny, lustrous Kathy Van Zeeland bag from our local mall. Please observe Molly taking stock of her prize near the Capitola Mall's food court. She loves it, will use it everywhere and with every outfit. I particularly look forward to seeing her wear this fancy, shiny thing along with her gloomy skater guy look - giant black skateboard sweatshirt with hood up in that dark monk manner, jeans with flared hems that drag on the ground, tattered Vans. And the shiny bag. Oh, to be 16 again with the license to mix up the fashion rules (as long as your peers like it, your high school circle will damn a look faster - and meaner - than Anna Wintour can reject couture lines from the pages of Vogue)
Must close here. Therapy appointment at 9:30 this morn. An hour and a half! No wussy 50 minute shrink session for this stumbling, shuffling crazy girl.
In the meantime, isn't my girl beautiful? I, of course, think so. I also wonder on a daily if not hourly basis how a Popular High School Chick sprang from my uterus 16 years ago.
I remember in high school when everyone had to have a Liz bag. Espirit came a close second. I had to wear a uniform for twelve years, so the only autonomy in dress was your bag and shoes.
Posted by: Kathy | March 11, 2008 at 01:34 PM
Thank you SO freakin' much, Grace!
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready for sleep...
But noooooooooooooooo, now I'm all
oohing with
Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
Oooh oooh oooh
Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh
Hey, whats the matter man?
We're gonna come around at twelve
With some puerto rican girls that are just dyin' to meet you.
We're gonna bring a case of wine
Hey, lets go mess and fool around
You know, like we used to
Posted by: Lin | March 11, 2008 at 07:38 PM
I LOVE the feelin' groovy tune! It's been a long time since I've heard it, so I'm just fine about having it swirling around in my head. For now. I may grumble about it in the morning.
Your girl is indeed very beautiful and has really matured since the last photo I saw of her. And as she's maturing, I'm seeing more of YOU in her, Grace!
Posted by: Tonya | March 11, 2008 at 09:20 PM
Well, FIRST. I'm 37 and I totally knew that Simon and Garfunkel reference. I've been listening to my Dad's old reel to reels, hijacked from Vietnam, since I was in middle school. Don't get me started on the Big O. And no. I don't mean orgasm.
Second, I want to say that your daughter's choice of purse just totally made me feel 20 years younger! I was just at a TJ Maxx/Marshall's kind of place last month, and started coveting that very bag! Some younger, cooler chick said, yeah, this Kathy Van Zeeland is HOT, and just getting noticed.
Although I have to share my pocket book needs with the needs of our one year old baby, I'm going back for that bag, because your beautiful daughter makes it look all the better. Tell her thanks for giving an aging mom a boost in confidence, in that I ACTUALLY liked something "the teenagers" like!
Continued good luck with therapy.
Posted by: winomom | March 12, 2008 at 06:38 PM
Well, FIRST. I'm 37 and I totally knew that Simon and Garfunkel reference. I've been listening to my Dad's old reel to reels, hijacked from Vietnam, since I was in middle school. Don't get me started on the Big O. And no. I don't mean orgasm.
Second, I want to say that your daughter's choice of purse just totally made me feel 20 years younger! I was just at a TJ Maxx/Marshall's kind of place last month, and started coveting that very bag! Some younger, cooler chick said, yeah, this Kathy Van Zeeland is HOT, and just getting noticed.
Although I have to share my pocket book needs with the needs of our one year old baby, I'm going back for that bag, because your beautiful daughter makes it look all the better. Tell her thanks for giving an aging mom a boost in confidence, in that I ACTUALLY liked something "the teenagers" like!
Continued good luck with therapy.
Posted by: winomom | March 12, 2008 at 06:40 PM
Oh, hey. Totally didn't mean to post twice. Sorry for the stupidery (that's a new word, I think it works).
Also, thanks much for the props via email...I totally think I'm not cut out for the blog world, but damn, this is my fourth effort in 3 years...I can't seem to just walk away, and you, dear Grace, seem to have set a fantastic bar.
Posted by: winomom | March 12, 2008 at 07:54 PM
Hi baby, just dropping by to say I MISS YOU! We seriously need coffee at Gayle's or something. I can walk there from the beach house, and I'll be there all Easter weekend...
Apropos of nothing, I'm dying to put you in a room with my mom. And then throw my Republican boyfriend in there with you. (betcha didn't know that about Mr. X! It's sad but true, he makes up for it in SO many ways...)
Posted by: Mindy | March 13, 2008 at 12:14 PM
I'm so missing you right about now.
I hope that all is well with you, dear Grace.
Much love and peace.
Posted by: carmen | March 18, 2008 at 05:18 PM
Your daughter is indeed a beauteous babe. But then consider the mom from whose loins she sprang!
Posted by: Nancy | April 06, 2008 at 03:26 PM
As the song goes..."where have all the good times gone". Hippies these days are too strung out. They are too health conscious and read too much gobbeldygook. I feel sad at the whole new rich so called "cyber hippies". What ever happened to protesting on the grass. Now It's...the secret...this...and ....what the bleep...that...I thing the indoor couch potato hippy has taken over. I miss the flowers in the hair.
Posted by: Old Hippie | June 26, 2008 at 10:17 AM