Well, here I am, all dolled up and ready to go to the party my husband and I have been planning for the last month. I'm wearing my floozy outfit, complete with feathered hair clip and wristlets, gaudy makeup and a feathered mask, and high heeled boots to complete the ensemble. My husband is opting to change at the party, as the weather has turned nasty and running around in that outfit is not going to be good if we should have problems with the car. I have a change of clothes already in the car, just in case, complete with comfy boots instead of these gawdawful things. I am a little nervous because this is nothing any of these people have seen me wear before, and it's almost as bad as being naked in front of strangers; I'm going out on a limb and risking ridicule for this party. In a way it's kind of symbolic of my struggle to leave my past behind and move forward with my life, heedless of what conventional wisdom and society have to say about it. Not so much ignoring the mean things people say, but not taking them to heart as I once did.
My son is ensconced at his friend's house for the night, complete with the parents who are watching a houseful of teen boys. EEEEK. More power to them because it's certainly not something I would volunteer to do. And I wish to all who have been following this a safe, happy and healthy New Year's eve.
My son is ensconced at his friend's house for the night, complete with the parents who are watching a houseful of teen boys. EEEEK. More power to them because it's certainly not something I would volunteer to do. And I wish to all who have been following this a safe, happy and healthy New Year's eve.
