Nothing to Write Home About...

I'll just apologize for not writing sooner.

I haven't felt like there's been anything "to write home about".

BUT, more than a few of you have gotten in touch to say, "the people need an update". SO, I'll just give you the highlight (LOWlight) reel:

Sorely, missing my HOHAs and my friends at nike, I checked out the Runners High group over in Belmont Shore a few Thursday's ago. Based on experience, I've found that nothing legitimizes you faster in an established group like that than the proof that you have an association with one similar. Sure, I could have shown up in some basic matchy-matchy Dri-fit but with "HOHA" emblazoned across my chest and aftermarket Nike+ laces in my Brooks I could immediately be identified as "a Runner". (Absurd, but true.)

I was hoping they'd take me on some fantastic new route I could then adopt, but essentially we ran out-and-back along the route I had driven to get to the shop. Oy! But it was nice to be among runners. Even Tim....

I introduced myself to a few people including Tim since he seemed as new as I was; he was. Tim's a bit younger and studying for the LSAT & GMAT. He asked me if I knew what those were. How do I look? What I mean to say is, do I appear unintelligent? Is this the First Impression I make??? AND has Tim actually encountered people that do NOT know what these are? Perhaps when he was backpacking through Eurasia??? Go back, Tim.

I also met Roberta, a Talker. I couldn't get a word in edgewise, which is fine with me I don't tend to be a wordy runner. She grew up near Fall River, MA (those of us in Textiles know Fall River) and lived in New York for years before coming to LA then Long Beach. ANYWAY, she's telling me her whole story and I'm just shaking my head and smiling because it sounds similar to mine. As it happens, she sells Italian textiles to the apparel industry. I tell her my story and she says she might know someone looking for a rep. At this point we've reached my turnaround and I honestly wished I had 8-miles in me so as not to give up the connection. I left my contact info for her but as of now haven't heard anything.

SO that was on a Thursday; that same week, Friday I am out for a walk around town. Looking just FAB in my older than Grace faded red shorts, running sneakers, and navy Syracuse hoodie.

I was just going over to Main to get out of the house and pick up the local paper. I walk past a bar/restaurant and the next thing I know from behind me someone is yelling, "Do you go to Syracuse?". Now, here's the thing: if I were currently enrolled, wouldn't I have still been back east on campus? But whatever, I turn around and go back to have an awkward conversation with Michael, a guy old enough to be my Dad. Turns out, he didn't even GO to Syracuse; he grew up there. I knew he was trying too hard when he brought up basketball and thought the last time we won the NCAA Tournament was in the late '80s. Go back inside, Michael.

It actually goes downhill....

Michael asks me the usual questions about what brought me to CA, blah, blah, blah, and what I do. I say, Textiles. Well, he has a niece who "just got a job in L.A. with some BeeGeeB something". Yes, Michael, that would be "BCBG" (so that's who got that job!). I clarify by saying, Home Furnishings. And he EXCLAIMS: "Well! That's ALL you had to say!" "You HAVE to meet LeAnn." He then goes into the bar and brings out this very tall, very blonde, VERY WASTED woman who he introduces as, LeAnn. (SERIOUSLY!!!!!!!! Does this happen to other people???)

Michael ABANDONS me there on the sidewalk with the VERY WASTED LeAnn, who just kept introducing herself, asked if I minded if she had a smoke, asked if we could sit on the bench "because you know...". YEAH! I KNOW!

I'm thinking, "Thank god she's wasted because I look like a tool!; who would believe I have a design degree!"

She's TRYING to talk to me about the home furnishings industry but keeps losing her train of thought. This is not going to be the networking opportunity Michael claimed, so in an effort to change the subject and (I pray) excuse myself, I compliment her (ATROCIOUS) engagement ring/wedding band combo.

Wrong decision.

This spurs a story about her first failed marriage. The meeting of "my Gene". And the CREATION of said rings. It FINALLY ends. But before I can make my exit, LeAnn asks me if she can introduce me to "my Gene"; what she really means is, I cannot possibly stand up by myself nor navigate back into the bar alone could you please take my arm and help me. So in we go. And I meet "my Gene". You'd think this'd be the end, but no.

Upon my trying to exit the bar, Michael and the two men he's sitting with at the bar strike up another conversation. Being dressed as I am I cannot even PRETEND I have somewhere else to be. I am just trying- not so subtly at this point- to back out the door. Finally, finally I leave but not without Michael's email address.

Walking home I am shaking my head and thinking, "You know, MOM. Sure. "Talk to people.", GREAT advice; this is what happens when I "talk to people"".

I'll (do better to) keep you posted...

k8