12/3/09: I don’t know much about blogging but I’m giving it a whirl because I’ve written a book and rewritten it and it is about to be professionally edited, which makes me nervous and vulnerable and full of doubt. So why not start a self-centered blog about me and my feelings? It’s the only thing I can do.
Last night I attended the Colorado Women’s Bar Association Holiday party at a fabulous old mansion converted into law offices. I was one of the only people having coffee instead of vino and yet I am the only one who walked confidently into a remarkably clear glass wall. Really confidently. At my full-I-lived-in-Manhattan-for-7-years-36″ inseam gait.
I smacked my head hard. It was loud. The whole place went silent. At least I did it in front of an excellent PI attorney, Patricia Jarzobski. Oh the humanity. Did 50 or so, give or take 25, county, state, and federal judges and magistrates HAVE to witness this? Really? Yep.
Then I did my best nonchalant walk of shame through this gauntlet of bench sitters and others clucking in my wake and found refuge in the vast library room. I had to collect myself. Naturally I said the F word when describing to friends what happened and OF COURSE one of the judges had her darling 5 year old daughter there, right behind me, listening intently. Crap.
I spent the next bit of time working through my instantly teenage feelings around being 6′1″ tall and gawky as hell. It made me think I didn’t ever work through anything.
I had a headache until about 1 a.m. But no subdural hematoma that I know of. A banner evening.
So this morning I was obsessing about the incident even though most of the attendees probably forgot about it shortly after it happened. I started to dry my hair. In my anxious mood I began taking half empty bottles and cans of old hair care products out of my hair care product drawer. I began adding various chemicals to my hair, including waxy goop, mousse, other foamy stuff not called mousse, special African oil that is mostly silicon, even spraying things on my curling iron. It seemed the only solution to last night’s social debacle was really, really big hair. Hair that, due to a perfect alignment of planets and layers of chemicals, is today larger than life, large and in charge, a fluff-do of magnificent proportion creating its own gravity-defying micro-environment, unaffected by the elements, namely the wind. A protective helmet for my sensitive cranium in case I have any more run-ins with glass walls today.