“And My Lawyer, And My Agent, And GOD…”

So here’s what I said after winning last night:

“Thank you so much!  I want to thank everyone at Desert Foothills, especially Meribeth and all the wonderful volunteers, my incredible cast, and Mary who I love so much even though I’ve only known her a few months – I’ve loved her choreography for so long, watching Sound of Music and Mary Poppins over and over again, it’s like I’ve loved her my whole life.  Thank you to my husband for supporting me, pushing me, making me laugh (and all the massages), and to my family and friends.  And I just have to tell you a quick story - I studied theatre, went to New York and did the whole thing, and was too chicken to ever go to a single audition.  And then I got to a certain age and thought, “Really? I’m just going to be a big chicken my whole life?”  And so I gave myself six months to get cast in ANY show, and one year later, here I am winning this award, and that is CRAZY.  And I don’t know why I was so scared of all you people, because I couldn’t have been more warmly welcomed.  I am truly honored to be a part of such a kooky, dysfunctional, deeply talented family of actors and artists.  Thank you!”

Isn’t that a good speech?

Yeah, I didn’t win.

And I really wasn’t expecting to (the award went to an actress from Nearly Naked’s “Blood Brothers” with a formidable voice and the most intimidating bosom I’ve ever seen), and the only reason I was hoping to win was because it would just make such a great ending to my story.  But I’m quite content to hold off on giving my story an ending at all.  I’m hoping there’s still a lot more adventure to come.

But isn’t that a good speech?!

Oscar Night! Um, I Mean Zoni Night!

I think I’ve possibly built this night up in my head a little too much.  I mean, I’ve been studying pictures of celebrities on the red carpet, as if there are going to be pictures of me in People magazine tomorrow.

Get a grip, Mama!  …No, I don’t want to!

Hair – check!  Jewelry from Mom – check!  Moo safely ensconced with Nana and Grandpa, playing “Dinosaur Train” – check!   Bad, amateur French manicure as applied by Mama Rose – check!  Tic-Tacs – check!  Now to play with eyeliner and try to find the perfect pair of underwear.  Why did I not buy Spanx??

Can’t wait to see Neil Patrick Harris tonight!

Oh, wait…

Getting it Together

So I’ve got the dress:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve got the shoes (but gold):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve got my grammie’s awesome jade cocktail ring, my mom’s gorgeous gold bracelets (I think she might hire a security guard to follow me around all night), and her vintage purse, and new earrings from Nordstrom.

I’ve also got a handsome date with a new shirt and tie.  (Mama:  “Everything is purple.”  Herbie:  “No!  No purple.  Can’t you get me a more manly color?”  Mama:  “I”m telling you, everything is purple.  Purple is cool right now.”  Herbie:  “Well, as long as it’s a manly purple.”)

I think I’m ready for Monday!

Shoes Glorious Shoes

An IM excerpt:

MR:  Oh, I got shoes today!

H:  ok

MR:  no no – I got SHOES

H:  ohhhhhhh – !!!!!

Good husband, that one.

Not too expensive, preeeetty sexy if I may say so, and will also make me about 6′1″, I think.  But what about the flowers?  There are little silk flowers on the dress.  Too much flower?  What do you think? 

Moo found some shoes, too.

“Now I can be a tap-dancing horse!”

UPDATE:  Oh dear, no.  Just tried on the shoes with the dress.  Wrong wrong wrong, all wrong.

Peekamoo!

Dress Success!

Monday, I coerced Rosalind into driving me to Nordstrom Rack for one last stab at Zoni-dress-shopping there.  I looked once before, but didn’t have the nerve to browse the “Designer Shop.”  If I’d gone in there alone, I would have made a big show out of carefully studying the thousand-dollar dresses, as if I was a very wealthy woman who just wears Old Navy t-shirts as a lark sometimes.  But with Emily there, we would hold up dresses and say, “Look!  It’s marked down to only $1,200, hahahahaha yeah right!”  And I even found a dress to try on, but it made me look like a fancy gladiator.

So I thought I might have to resign myself to my plum-but-not-perfect dress, because my mom-slash-Moo-watcher is going out of town, and then we’re going camping, so I really only had one more day to shop, and that was yesterday.

I promised myself I wouldn’t go out shopping until I cleaned the house, so I scrubbed and hoovered (sometimes I like to pretend I’m English) and finally headed out for my last-chance shopping with only an hour and a half before I had to pick up Moo.

First I hit Buffalo Exchange, which I’d forgotten existed since I decided I was too old to shop there last year.  But perhaps an Anne Hathaway-type young lady had consigned a lovely beaded frock?  No. 

Then I went to Mint Vintage, inside the totally cool Red Modern Furniture.  I’d heard it carried some of the nicest vintage clothes in Phoenix, and I hoped maybe it had a 50’s-style cocktail dress like the one I bought in Seattle years ago, which would have been perfect for the Zoni’s except Herbie spilled a pomegranate martini on me at the Office Christmas Party of 2004.  But Mint had only one rack of clothes, and while the pieces were unique and in great condition, the closest thing they had to my dream dress was an 80’s velvet dress with a big pink butt bow.  And I just don’t think I could pull off “ironic” at an awards show.

From there I almost went to Dillard’s, but at the last second I turned into the Rowdy Boutique, right across from my old high school.  My hair stylist Lila recommended it, and she’s a stylish lady, so I decided to give it a try.  Little boutiques make me nervous – they’re often too expensive for me, and they’re usually near-empty and I feel attacked by salespeople.  Sure enough, I was the only one in the store, and I glanced around warily.  Cute clothes, but nothing fancy.  The saleslady pounced on me – but it was a friendly sort of pounce.  And then she pointed  to the sale rack, where, among the jeans and t-shirts, there hung one single Max and Cleo blue dress, in my size, for 40% off.  And here’s the kicker – you know how some designers like to give their products names, like, the Stella purse?

This dress is named after ME.  The Mama Rose dress.  …Except, you know, my real name.  And the exact same way I spell it, which is not exactly the most common way.

It was a SIGN.  And, heavens to betsy, it looked great on me, too!  Here’s a picture I found, but bear in mind that this girl is like a size negative-6, and also I think the material looks… nicer in person, and also I’m wearing it with the optional spaghetti straps:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the one.  (Also, it’s not returnable.)  But I feel classy and sexy and very Reese Witherspoon-circa-2007 (when she was proving to her stupid ex that the best revenge is a yellow cocktail dress).

Now for accessories and shoes!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mmmmmmmm…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeeeeeeeeeee!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GASP.   *thud*

Breakdowns and Back-Ups

I started the day banging my hairdryer on the floor in fury, because YET ANOTHER hairdryer has gone kaput on me, of course right in the middle of drying my hair, leaving my hair half-smooth, half-frizzed.  Every single hairdryer I have ever purchased, pricey or cheap, always breaks on me in less than two years.  Meanwhile, my mother-in-law has had the same hairdryer for 20 years.  I bought the same model once – one day it sparked and singed a chunk of hair off the top of my head.

Things got better when I visited Miss Lila, my hair stylist, a little later.  (Don’t ask me why I washed my hair before I went to the salon to get it washed and colored and cut.)  Lila is the best, and not only does she always get my cut and color just right, but she also always massages my head during the shampoo, ahhhhhh.  But Lila had recently been to New York for a workshop and learned cool new techniques in cutting, which she used on me, and I could tell the difference, but I’m pretty sure it took her about twice as long to cut my hair.  And with each careful snip, I felt my shopping-time ticking away. 

Finally I was outta there at 2:30, my hair looking as good as it’s capable of thanks to Lila, and I sped out to the Saks outlet Rosalind told me about, convinced that all my dress dreams would come true.  I mean – Saks!  Outlet!  Right?  But, no.  I almost called Rosalind and asked if there was some hidden room where they keep the awesome dresses, and you’re only allowed in if you know the password, but alas, it really was just a tiny area with a few Calvin Klein dresses that looked exactly like all the other dresses I’ve seen in the past few weeks.  Desperate, my no-black rule flew out the door (maybe I could get awesome shoes?) and I tried on three black dresses that made me look either boring or shapeless. 

After I gave up on Saks, I ended up at Macy’s, AGAIN.  I guess I really like Macy’s – huh.  Here in Phoenix, we have an especially nice one in an upscale shopping center called the Biltmore, and this Macy’s just seems to stock slightly nicer/more expensive things than all the other ones.  With 45 minutes to shop before I had to go pick up Moo, I swooshed around the dress department.   I mentally tossed ALL my rules and ended up with nine dresses of all colors – black, pink, brown, even YELLOW.  I do not wear yellow.  When I was a pre-teen, my mother broke the news that yellow is not my color and should be avoided at all costs (I’m a Spring, it seems – or Summer?).  I’ve always agreed, but in that moment of desperate dress-shopping, I thought - maybe my mom was wrong!  Maybe she’s just always had some deep anti-yellow prejudice, and actually I look amazing in yellow…. perhaps I will even look the BEST I HAVE EVER LOOKED in this bright yellow dress!!

Nope.  Mom was right.

I zipped and tugged my way through all nine dresses, shoo-ing away the nosy saleslady (isn’t that why I like Macy’s, because they usually don’t bother you?), and found myself in the plum Laundry dress once again.  Last Saturday, it was 50% off.  Now it was 65% off.  Done.

I still don’t like the way it cuts so high under my arms.  I mean, I don’t think I’ll be able to wear/reapply deodorant (and don’t tell me to use the clear stuff because it does not work and still leaves marks), and what if I’m really nervous (quite likely) and I get sweat marks on my pretty plum dress?

So plummy will remain a back-up dress, and I’ll keep on desperately shopping around.  Lila clued me in to some boutiques that might have some options.

Maybe they carry hairdryers, too?

Oof. And also, Meh.

Bad cold (Moo and me) + evil canker sore (just me) = crappy week.  BUT – good diet.

I am not prone to canker sores, so I don’t know what was up with this sucker, but it would NOT go away, and as a result all I could do for a whole week was nibble graham crackers and slurp soup.  And the shed pounds would be great for going out and trying on dresses for the Zoni awards, but I felt so awful I could barely manage to roll off the couch to feed my child.

Finally, on Saturday, the pain and congestion haze eased up a bit and I found myself in the car on the way to Nordstrom.  Herbie looked at me kinda funny when I said I wanted to go shopping, considering I’d barely grunted three words at him all week, but I had to get out of the house, and seriously, time is running short and I need a dress.

No, not just a dress.  An AMAZING dress.  An amazing dress that I can afford.

That exists, right?

I thought I’d find dress nirvana at Nordstrom, but I didn’t even find any tempting enough to try on, and yes, I did get up the nerve to look in the “Special Occasions” alcove, where the salesladies divebomb you as soon as you cross the threshold. 

I ended up at Macy’s, again, and found a handful of dresses to try on, including one I’d tried on previously, now 50% off!  Here it is, with the other top contender:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My favorite is on the right.  It’s actually a pretty plum color, and although it looks shapeless on the hanger, it’s very flowy and makes me look skinny (YES).  The other one is kinda sexy/slutty, in a way I think Herbie would love, but I’d be afraid to eat anything all night.  I almost bought the plum one, as a just-in-case-I-don’t-find-anything-better dress, but then my nose got all stuffed up again and suddenly I just wanted to be back home on the couch.

So here I am, three weeks to go and I haven’t found anything very enticing.  I thought I would find myself torn between 10 or so different stunning dresses, but it’s hard to find anything that I think will please me, Herbie, and any potential directors I might talk to at the Zoni’s.  It’s also getting increasingly hard to resist the color black.

And what about shoes??

Mmmm, shoes….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
What?  It’s an investment!

One More From the Farm…

Irwin’s favorite tree, which he appropriately dubbed the Witch’s Hat Tree:

Flag Party: Swimming!

Ready…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Set…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

JUMP!