I am typing this from a plane. I am flying through the sky and surfing the web. We live in crazy times. I can’t stop thinking about that routine that Louis CK did on Conan, about how quickly we lose perspective on it all.
The last couple days have been a worldwind trying to get ready for this trip on such short notice. I’m already sick of myself for the whining I’m doing about it, but let me say this: my hair has been botched, and my outfit is iffy at best. The only day I could get a hair appointment was on Sunday, and I’m guessing I got the stylist without a lot of clients. She was a little scissor-happy, and before I knew it she had taken about half of the hair from the top of my head and cut it into short bangs. The bangs are so heavy. I had a friend who is a master stylist try to fix it. But as it turns out, you can’t uncut hair.
So, yeah. I look like I am wearing this wig.
Or channeling Sandy from Greece.
Or myself in 1993.
Not at all the look I wanted to rock on national television. And, listen. I’m not doing that thing we all did in junior high, where I go “OMG, ya’ll, my hair looks so bad” in an attempt for affirmation, and you all rush to my side and say, “No! It looks good! Your bangs totally look good!” Dude. It looks bad.
(And unlike junior high, I don’t want my bangs to be prominently featured)
After Sunday’s hair fiasco, I dedicated Monday morning to try to find something appropriate to wear. I had a babysitter and I got out of the house early,and drove to a shopping center that I knew had some shops with some more classic pieces. I showed up at 9:30 to discover the stores didn’t open until 10. I panicked a little, since my babysitter time was precious, but decided to wait it out. At 10, I was the first one in Macy’s, which should be renamed Emporium of Hideous Matronly Bedazzled Blouses. I couldn’t find anything. So I beelined it to Anthropologie, and it’s now 10:30, and come to find out some of the stores don’t open until 11. Including Anthro, Ann Taylor, and all of the smaller boutiques I wanted to try. Now I’m really panicking. So, long story short, I waited and then only had about 30 minutes to choose a couple random tops and book it back to pick up the kids. Once I got home, I hated everything I bought, but there was no other opportunity to shop.
So, on the View, I will be wearing a white Miami-Vice style jacket that seemed like a good idea in the store, and a shirt that shows way too much cleavage. But maybe that will distract from the bangs.
But 31 bits gave me some jewelry to wear. At least I’m excited about that.
And really, as I mentioned before, all of this scrambling about my appearance is really a way of diverting my nerves about the show itself. I am so anxious to present adoption well – to encourage others to consider adopting a waiting child, without sugar-coating the process. It’s such a complex topic and I know my time with be short. I probably just need to resolve myself to the fact that I won’t get it all in.
In the midst of packing, getting kids ready, cleaning, and arranging childcare, I did sit down to watch the Tony Awards, which was NOT a good idea given that I will be a quick taxi ride from Broadway in a few hours, without any time to see a show. As I watched all of the performances, I felt sick . . . literally, pit-in-the-stomach sick, that I won’t be able to see a show.
But, you know? To borrow a phrase from Louis CK, “everything’s amazing, nobody’s happy”. I’m on the way to New York City with my sweetie. I get to talk about something I’m passionate about on national tv. I get to sleep in tomorrow in a fancy hotel that I’m not paying for. If my bangs and my clothes are my biggest problem, I probably need a perspective check.
In the words of Joy Behar, “So what? Who cares?”
