Lounging around the domicile after a fruitful and mildly eventful yesterday, my mind went into overdrive as I pounded the keys of the laptop beside my mounting manuscript garnish.  Thanksgiving is looming and while my nephews incessantly remind me of their own obligatory lists (Christmas lists that is), I can’t help wondering who officially bogarted the year.  An enthusiast of the season, everywhere I turn, twinkling lights and funky plastic reindeer festoon the lawns of suburbia, but as I barely stumble out of a semi-candy coma from Halloween… I’ve yet another fabulous reminder that time is melting away as if some true-to-life Salvador Dali rendition. 

 Hmmm, if only I had a pause button…  

While I posted these images on my other blog, circumstance has created a slight negligence as I realize I’ve been delinquent with my posts… but I wanted to shed a little spotlight on the alpha dog of my wardrobe. Fulfilling all my Carrie Bradshaw fashion fantasies, the tulle conception seemed a sublime manifesto as animate as any fairy tale turned true-to-life moment.  While it may have taken 12 gruesome hours, numerous sewing machine slanders, and a little 3am delirium to conquer, the finality was more than even I could have imagined… and honey let’s be honest, that sea is wide indeed. 

But several cartwheels later and a standing ovation worthy of any red carpet, I couldn’t help but to parade about like some schoolgirl gone naughty.  And despite all the blatant onlooker stares and unpleasantly cold ambiance, my Sex and the City Ballerocker turned out even better and even bigger than Mr. Big.

Metaphorical titles, well-thought covers, and secret lives, alongside that omniscient kingdom of words… somehow, someday. 

I keep reminding myself that rejection (such a hideous word) is not only inevitable, as is my surly façade glowering back at those damn SASE, but it’s also purely subjective, or so they claim.  Then again, I always wonder why it feels so critical… terminal… palpable.  But in light of the proverbial rejection fact, it means I’m still in the game, I’m fully exposed.  And with a few things on the vanguard, I’m determined that one day I’ll get there and finally have my cake and eat it too.    

Right now, I’ll have to suffice with cookies.

Halloween has come and gone, and as we shuffle through the various holidays of 2008…  I can’t believe the year is chiseling out another ending.  But after several phone calls, connecting flights, and the logistical chaos of travel, I was finally able to reunite in the interim, with my long-distant other half for a seriously spooktacular weekend of trickery, costumes, late night misadventures, and yes… love.

Some things are definitely worth waiting for, and while our time together had us clowning around as Carrie Bradshaw and the Zombie from Hell… the hoopla and ongoing shenanigans were over before I’d realized it’d even started.  In lieu of Halloween and the righteous after party my sister and brother-n-law spent a small fortunate on, here are a few photographs definitely worth sharing.