I left the house this morning, got in my car, looked in the rearview mirror, and then had to go back inside and change. Somehow I had left the house in a white polo shirt and khaki pants. Which, as adorable as those ladies were last night*, is a bit too close to weird-old-cat-n-jeopardy-lovin'-fandlady for my taste. Oh man, Kerry Close though. Kept her hands in her pockets and everything, so cool. I love these kids. I also love the fact that I OWNED "kundalini." So owned it.**
In other news about young people, S. reports her interns were born in 1987. I suggested she start a conversation about Mondale in this morning's staff meeting, and judge reactions from there.
* (PS, if you are a fourteen year old boy, here IS YR LADIES TO SWEAT. They are beautiful, smart natch, and have the glossiest hair I've ever seen. Ask them to the 8th grade dance posthaste. I'm hiring Finola to come give me skincare tips, freals.)
** (I don't care if it's not that hard. Sidenote: did not own "weltenschmerz," but was close. Very, very close.)
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2 comments:
That Finola girl was a cutie-pie.
Dude, don't you see? The 14 year old dating recommendations are part of the axis of khaki. You want them to go out with the nice young ladies of Scripps -- and why not, they're lovely and accomplished young women. But instead they're inevitably going to go fall for the tortured poetry-writer/theater technician who thinks that sexual mores are just, like, a construct, man.
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