Estoy Nueces

I have 30 short minutes to get ready for a baby shower... so why am I here? I'm feeling the satisfaction of having wrapped a baby present appropriately (sort of, it would have been nice to have some tissue paper inside the box, but, oh well. "Half ass" is my middle name(s).

This weekend has TWO events and I've made it through one last night. Dinner and a musical with my sister, her husband, and two of their old friends that I have also known for 40 years (but haven't seen in about 10). I may vent about it it at a later time, but it went well and I'm relieved I'm through that.

Now on to a baby shower --- one of my least liked social events EVER. I usually decline, but this one is at a beautiful FANCY expensive country club so I'm going to see how those people live. Free valet parking! Big brunch! Lots of women probably in lacy sundresses and strappy high heels. I am fortunate (I guess?) to be able to wear a caftan or a muumuu or a black sweater and jeans and tennis shoes and still be accepted as old and quirky? I hope so because it will be something like that. I'm not even sure. Most of the people there will be in their 30s, I expect so I'll hang on the fringes with the grandmothers and slip out when appropriate. Only ONE person there knows me well (the mama) so I should be able to go.

Have I mentioned I have a strong dislike of people? Not really, but I would just rather observe rather than interact. So that is what I plan to do. Ask a lot of leading questions and let them do all the talking (if I have to talk, that is). I wonder if there will be bellinis or mimosas?

Okay -- MUST go brush my teeth.