Saturday, January 1, 2011

Ugh. Sorry, world.

I sure chose the day to be a diva.

Long story a little less long:

Kelly and Jenny and Bailey drove from Kansas to Illinois today and dropped Bailey off at a train stop there to ride into Chicago to meet best friend forever Nicky Pie for a week of fun and excitement.

Now. When I say "dropped Bailey off," you picture a calm "drop off," am I right? With kisses and hugs? Okay well there were hugs, but no time for kisses! We got in the "I love you"s, if I remember correctly, because those can be multi-tasked, grouped in with the hugs.

Anyway.

We ran! up the stairs to the train, leaving my curling iron and hair dryer behind in the car in our haste (tomorrow morning could be interesting, in this frigid weather), after Kelly grew more and more nervous about leaving his

sweet, precious, only sister

at a...sketchy...train stop, as well as not being able to find the train stop right away, with mere minutes left to board.

Kelly's nerves must have been pretty present in his face, because after I boarded, the conductor followed me onto the train and asked me first:

"You do have cash, don't you?"

And then a few minutes later:

"Do you know where you're going when you get there?"

Awesome. Okay, well the diva explanation: here it comes.

So I don't think I can blame the conductor's extra concern/my seeming lack of street smarts this evening on Kelly's concern for his

sweet, precious, only sister

alone.

Because.

I must be honest.

I was dressed.

And accessorized.

And in possession of luggage belonging to:

a diva.

(I must preface before I continue that I harbor no ill-will (well, that I'm aware of--we might need to re-address this topic in whole during a later blog post) toward divas.)

Okay. We'll start from the top. My outfit:

Sweater. Jeans. Flashy red coat.

Heels.

Accessories:

Ponytail, slicked back with a headband. Diamond-looking stud earrings.

And finally, luggage:

HUGE suitcase. Shoulder bag (filled with books! Intelligent blonde! NOT a diva!). Laptop...in a pink and brown case.

And also carrying:

A leather-looking jacket.

Ugh. I can hardly continue in the telling of this story.

Diva, right? No wonder he asked if I had cash, and whether I knew where I was going when I got off the train. He didn't even have to check my driver's license to guess I was a little naive schoolgirl from Kansas.

Ugh.

So remember how yesterday I told you I used to wear sweatpants all the time? Yeah, so nowadays I wear pink things and earrings and jeans. Yes. But I rarely wear heels.

But today? On the sketchy train? Yep, heels.

Ugh.

People, I was reading a book on the train about AIDS, for crying out loud. I am a concerned citizen! But my outfit betrayed me as embodying a different type of sentiment for the world around me. One concerned with

[fake!]

diamond stud earrings and

[fake!]

leather jackets.

Sigh...

I will say this is the most excited I've been to be in Chicago in a long time, (aside from the simple fact that I'm away from the judging eyes on the train), especially considering the weather--shudder. Currently: 15 degrees. Feels like: -1. Wind: 17-23 mph.

Why?


He'd probably appreciate it if I quit calling him that. Not the BFF part, but the "Pie" part. Meh.

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