May 4, 2006


Quitchyerbitchin'

My mom always said that. She was usually right. About what, you may be wondering? I have to go to an awards banquet on Saturday, which in and of itself is quite cool. I've been nominated for an Ontario Newspaper Award for Columnist. They nominate 3, so the achievement is a nice nod.

You get to go to a lovely hotel, have a great meal and drink as much as you can imagine a ballroom full of newspaper people would drink. It's fancy. You have to wear grownup clothes. Last year I didn't win wearing a pretty new dress my friend forced me to buy.

They say you should dress for the job you want, not the one you have. That is why a few years back, I started staying in my pyjamas and eschewing mascara. I wanted to commute to my kitchen and have my productivity measured by word count rather than corporate butt-kissing.

The problem of course is that when you no longer exercise a muscle, it atrophies. My fancy clothes-wearing muscle is dead. As I was dredging through my closet last night I realized all I buy are black dresses that reach my ankles. I look like I should be crying beneath a veil and offering a tray of lasagna to a widow.

I'll just tell myself the real truth in all of this. I can't remember what anyone else was wearing last year, and I've no reason to believe I'm any more memorable.

Maybe I'll go in black pyjamas.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Rainey: Congratulations on the nod. It is nice to know that good work is recognized. You should be very proud. ...Melanie

May 04, 2006 9:52 AM  
Blogger Brenda said...

Whoo - hoo! Hey, if I thought anything of mine would fitcha, you could come and look in my closet. But they aren't too fancy in there either. I made a run to Reitman's for funeral clothes...better go raid Jane's closet! Congrats! When's the do?
Brenda

May 05, 2006 10:32 PM  

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