It’s all about meeeeeee tonight. You’ve been warned and are free to move along.

We went Downtown tonight. Not downtown Planet Ann Arbor, downtown Dee-troit. We had a wonderful dinner sitting at the bar in the Green Dot Stables restaurant, and then we went to an art opening at MOCAD. We do not usually go to art openings. We walked in and I made a beeline for the whine table for a cab. Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t chug whine all night. I had two over the course of a couple hours. But man oh man, I was standing there amongst all of these sophisticated-looking, discerning art lovers and thinking something like, “boy oh boy, am I a country bumpkin or what?” Just about then, the GG said something like, “You look like you fit right in here.” Yes, I almost dropped my cab. Ka-splash.

Back in the Jurassic Age, despite the fact that I grew up in the rugged northern outpost of Sault Ste. Siberia, The Commander (who grew up near Detroit) tried her darndest to bring me up “properly”. You know, so I didn’t say things like, “I ain’t got none”, (at least not within her earshot) and so that I could dress for things like church (yes) and concerts. And art openings… Not that we ever had art openings up in Siberia in those days.

And then there were all the trips we took to Detroit, where we had to dress up just to go shopping downtown. I got excited about that as a little kid but when I was 13 or so, we were going to stay at the Book Cadillac Hotel instead of my grandparents house on Mark Twain and boy oh boy was there a row up there on Superior Street the night before we left. I wanted to wear jeans! At the Book Cadillac? It was a “fancy” hotel and The Commander wouldn’t hear of it! I forget who won that battle. I suspect that I didn’t get to wear jeans but probably managed to get away with loading up on eye makeup instead.

Nowadays, I try for style but if it is not *comfortable* I do not wear it. I am ruthless about this. I spent about 30 seconds thinking about what I would wear tonight and I got dressed in about five minutes. Cute little red skirt, black wool-silk turtleneck, black Chico’s Traveler’s jacket, black tights, and cute little red suede Jambu shoes with *hiking* soles. I chose well because I spent absolutely *no* time thinking about what I was wearing the entire time. (I did wash my face and re-apply my makeup, which is pretty much the same make up I probably wore at the Book Cadillac, downsized by about 90%.)

And I wasn’t really intimidated by what other people were wearing because it was all over the map (like I thought it would be). It was their demeanor that I couldn’t fathom. And then. During the presentation… Doop doodle-doo-doo-doo-do-doodle-do-doop. Yikes. I forgot to turn off my iPhone! Who is calling me! But it wasn’t my phone ringing. It belonged to the sophisticated looking guy next to me. I looked at him and whispered, “I thought it was mine!” Somehow that did the trick. For me anyway. He didn’t really react. But after that, I relaxed (after I double-checked that *my* phone’s sound was off!). I didn’t have deep conversations with anyone but I was my typical shy but friendly self.

Oh yeah, not to mention that there was valet parking at this event and there is my loverly Ninja in the photo big as life and festooned with a sh*tload of redwing blackbird poop on and below the mirror. The Young Turk who parked the car prob’ly didn’t even notice it. “Hey, can you drive a stick?” “Yes!” We can only hope he didn’t take a detour over onto one of the freeways on the way to the parking lot!

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This entry was posted on Saturday, May 11th, 2013 at 9:54 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.