I know I need to write about Blog'Her and I will..I promise. I'm not home yet. I left BlogHer with my Bestie Allie to come spend a few days with her sister in law, Pat in New Jersey. I have met Pat several times before, I LOVE Pat, and this was my first time getting to see her home. I was very excited because Pat is an amazing art collector and that is putting it mildly. I feel like I am sleeping at the MOMA. Pat is Senior Vice President of Investments at Merrill Lynch and she lives a much deserved, hard worked for lifestyle. She is also one of the most generous, philanthropic people I know.
You needed that background to appreciate my story from last night. We arrive at Pat's beautiful estate and I don't even have time to look at the artwork because we must be ready to leave for dinner at 8:00 sharp. Pat is very punctual. So..I rush upstairs with Allie to get ready. I throw on a clean dress, freshen my deodorant, brush my teeth, touch up my makeup and run a brush through my hair. And now I have a problem. We are going to a fancy restaurant and I have been using an orange briefcase as a purse for the Blog'Her convention. I look at Allie, my roommate and say, "I need a purse that goes with this dress." She tells me no worries--she's got me covered. Allie is a purse girl so I figured she'd whip something perfect out of her suitcase. That's not what happened. She tells me to follow her down the hall to Pat's closet. (Understand that Allie and I are like sisters with a 16 year friendship on our resume, so we can fight.) Our conversation goes like this:
Me: "NO--I'm not going into Pat's closet.
Allie: "Yes you are--come on."
Me: Panicked now, "NO Allie, that's so rude. No!"
Allie: "Annie--this is my family and this is how we roll here and you're just going to have to go with it, so COME ON--we're gonna be late!"
(At this point, Allie's 25 year old son Dustin has joined Team Allie.)
Dustin: "Annie--seriously it's fine; Pat doesn't care at all."
Me: "You guys--I wasn't raised like this--you don't just go walking into someone's closet and help yourself--NO!"
I can tell that Allie is getting really frustrated with me and truly--I need a freaking purse for the night, so I go completely against my comfort zone and follow her into Pat's closet.
She fucking hands me this:
An Alexander McQueen clutch that is worth 3 house payments.
I scream "NO" and run from her out of Pat's room and back to the safety of my guest-room. I am now sweating and on the verge of an anxiety attack.
She follows me back in to our room with the damn clutch.
Me: "Doesn't she have anything basic from Target or Macys that will match my dress?"
Allie: "NO and you are really starting to piss me off. Take it--we need to go."
Me: "Oh my God! Allie--the only way I will borrow this bag for the evening is if you walk downstairs right now and ask Pat's permission."
Allie and Dustin: "Okay, but that's really gonna piss her off."
I wait, sweating.
Allie: "I asked her and she was completely insulted that I even asked. Told you!"
I look at them both, "I need a commoner--someone who can relate to my anxiety in this situation."
Dustin: "I'm a commoner."
Me: "Not in this situation you're not!"
Truly I am dying inside because if I lose even one crystal on this bag, I'm dead-meat. I HAVE to talk to someone who "gets it" just to release my anxiety. I walk into the bathroom to call my mom--no answer. I call my cousin Kate. She answers--thank God. And she gets it--she SO gets it. She did however laugh at me because I called it a "Steve McQueen clutch." Whatever!
I will close with this photo that Dustin captured of me walking into the restaurant with the clutch. I think it truly captures my mood:
I will tell you that the clutch made it home safely, all crystals still intact. Whew!!!