Blog, it's Christmas party season and as a result I've found myself getting all dolled up for house parties over the weekend. Why is it that a Christmas party calls for an air of extravagance? Both Friday and Saturday evenings I spent way too much time doing my hair and make up, and figuring out what I was going to wear. Friday was especially fancy since the party I attended was put on by a couple of gays I know. Those gays know how to class a get-together up, I tell ya. I mean, I got an invitation in the mail complete with party time being described as 8 o'clock post meridian. I didn't even know p.m. was a real acronym. And the loft condo that it was held in was flawlessly decorated, complete with a shag rug and vase (pronounced vahz, naturally) collection.
Saturday, Kerin put on a holiday get together that included a cheese tray, tons of beer, and a dress from Saks 5th Avenue. I didn't even think I knew people who actually shopped there, but it turns out they had a sale on Wednesday that had some pretty good deals. Had they had that little green number in my size, I totally would have allowed it to make its debut at both parties. But alas, I was left to what little fashion creativity I possess to figure out that wearing cheap second hand clothing can be classed up by sequins. When in Christmas party doubt, sequins. Just sequins.
And now I'm home, working on this summary of Wuthering Heights that I've put off for way too long. No offense, Blog, but I want to expand the venues in which I write. Improv is great, but is getting a little stale as of late so I've been looking for other creative outlets. Writing in you is nice, but then it leads me to want to explore what else I can do. Kerin and I have been looking at classes at The Loft which I think would be a great way to expand my horizons and also hold me accountable to creating independently. What do you think? I mean, I wouldn't leave you behind. You're actually the only thing that I can write in continuously without having to stop, read, heavily criticize myself, cry, and then delete everything just came out of my finger tips only to try, try again. Of course you've know that all along, haven't you.
Well, if anything, I can look into it and learn more. A year ago, I was in England meeting a guy I'd eventually fall in love with, travel thousands of miles to see, and then come to a realization that home is where the heart is. Maybe a year from now, I'll have a new skill set. Who knows.