No one comments on my blog
Does this mean no one is reading it?
GOOD GOD THERE MUST BE 8 ZILLION BLOGS in the world
Who has time to read any one elses when everyone is blogging?
Still…it’s nice to know when someone has stopped by!
If you are stopping by, you will let me know, won’t you?
My oldest daughter has a mock trial tomorrow.
I am the defendent. I allegedly set fire in three different locations in a small
town called Southpoint.
My daughter is the defense attorney.
She’s done a great job with her closing argument.
I almost jumped out of my seat tonight when she was walking,
around the dining room table,
impassioned by conviction
that I am an innocent in this twisted turn of events.
I look forward to being on trial tomorrow—
in a REAL COURTHOUSE, mind you!—
and seeing how she does in front of a real jury
and a real judge
and her peers
(other members of the court).
Good god, I hope she gets me off!
I’d hate to spend imaginary time in a prison
for a make-believe crime!!!!
(Unless Martha Stewart is the head chef
and I get to hang out with Johnny Cash.)
We head to Goodwill to purchase lawyer clothing.
A nice blouse, a jacket and skirt, some lawyer like pumps.
A sixth grader transformed into a Harvard grad.
It was that fast.
Except, of course, the argument over the shoes.
The ones Lily had picked (OMG…NO WAY was I getting
the three inch black pumps with a TINY heel)
And the shoes I had picked. Which, were, c’mon.
The right ones, right?
“Those are so ugly. There is no way I am wearing those.
Those are hideous. They look like NANA SHOES!”
(Nana, of course, being my most practical mother
who wears the world’s most comfortable, yet,
of course, not always, shall we say, aesthetic shoes…)
We are at the check out counter.
The sales clerk looks like a reasonable young lady.
I say to her,
“Do THESE shoes look like something a lawyer would wear…
or do THESE shoes look like something a lawyer would wear?”
Lily is staring at her.
I am staring at her.
The clerk looks at the shoes.
The clerk looks at us.
She smiles, slyly, and says,
“Well, these are the sorts of shoes Ally McBeal might wear.
But, on the other hand, these seem like the shoes a real
lawyer might wear.”
My shoes went into the bag with the other essentials
and man, oh man, did I hear an earful the entire drive home.
Tonight, iolana was working on her homework…after
telephone interviews with friends about their favorite things
to do after school, she was now in the process of formulating
a very keen chart, complete with a key and lines and
figures and numbers. So, we are at the kitchen table discussing
how she can best represent all these things (came down to
colorful markers—ah, aren’t they still the BEST!?) and Lily, circling, a tigress,
repeating her diatribe against the prosecution, now changing voices to
keep herself amused, the phone rings and I jump up to talk to my
dear friend, Julie, but asking her if I may call her back, I’m in the middle
of helping iolana and she says she’s called to tell me someone on
American Idol reminds her of me when I was first starting out.
I had to laugh!