Darlings! I had a simply HARROWING flight from Boston to Washington, DC this morning. The turbulence was so bad I actually got air under me, you know? Like how your fly in the air when you hit the big drop on a roller coaster? I hate rollercoasters when they’re rollercoasters; I certainly don’t appreciate a rollercoaster ride in the middle of the air somewhere betwixt the Massachusetts and Chesapeake Bays! I admit ’twas I who yelled an expletive and ’twas I who asked the very nice man next to me if he would please hold my hand, and ’twas I sending up loud prayers to multiple deities.
The second flight was less hair-raising but still highly unpleasant, which is why I’m deeply grateful to be back on terra firma.
So far, so good at our annual denominational gathering. There is a lot of Capri Abuse being committed, and I simply don’t understand why there’s such enormous oppression and discomfort in an extra 6″ of fabric that so many women should feel absolutely compelled to let their calves breathe free. That six inches of fabric is about dignity, people. I think it could be safely said that if our pants do not reach our ankles they are not actually Big Girl Pants and we are infantilizing ourselves, or at the very least appear to be headed for a day of gardening or camping and not professional meetings.
Some of you want to get together and we will make that happen! Tweet me, comment here, etc. I’m here until Sunday afternoon and I will have a better idea of my schedule when I get my program and plot out my days.
I am very sad that in my packing haste, I grabbed an old and very much too large pair of black pants that pool around my ankles and look very floppy and silly. So much for that wardrobe staple! The moral of that story is: TAKE THE CLOTHES THAT DO NOT FIT YOU OUT OF YOUR CLOSET.
Good night, dears.