Wendy Saves the Day

You know the day’s gonna suck giant, ugly Tyrannosaurus Rex wang when you find, while standing in line at Brueggers, awaiting the much needed garlic bagel with just a light shmear of jalapeño cream cheese, that you’ve put your T shirt on inside out AND backwards. Clearly I’d not mainlined enough espresso before leaving the house.

The first day back to work after a three day weekend (especially one that wasn’t particularly relaxing) is always hard with a side of what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking, but more so when you’ve done the big purse switch without Launch Control’s oversight. What was I thinking?! I remembered my cell, my wallet, my date book but NOT my inhaler (for the dreaded asthma), no pen and where’s that little pack of tissues which no middle aged woman is allowed to leave home without -- hmmmm?

And, tell me now, is a courier bag only called a purse when a woman is toting it?

I’ve been buying bags from CourierWare for years now. They’re practically indestructible, comfortable, waterproof AND they come in some cool colors and patterns. OK, so I’ve not actually had to buy that many seeing as they’re so damned sturdy. I’m thinking that I might just have to pick up the Tapestry 1 style soon you know, the challenge to resist may be too much for me.

In any case, I made it through the day without letting my Cranky Kali mood leak onto innocent, and even the not so innocent, coworkers. Yea me.

To reward my fabulous levels of maturity, Jen and I headed to the Frog and Peach for a Wendy the Magic Bartender crafted Cosmopolitan. She makes the best one around. Some joints, where I no longer order anything but the house Cab or a shot of Jami, make a Cosmo that’ll put me into sugar shock, would spark a diabetic reaction in a razor clam and assuredly use all the sugar cane Brazil harvests in a year. Oh yeah. All that and the drink’s a dark shade of pink -- only seen in the PMS (Pantone Matching System) book as Rhodamine Red or on 1980s vintage disco girls.

No, no, no. The correct pink for a Cosmopolitan is pale, pallid, watercolor-ish, anemic even, in hue. Much more like the 1950s bathroom tile found in a certain cousin’s house (and as blusher on her cheeks too). And that’s just how Wendy makes ‘em.


Today, her nail polish matched the Cosmo she presented to me. It was perfect.

You know, I’ve always despised the color pink.  It’s beyond cliche and well into vapidville. But, BUT Wendy rescues that poor color and gives it a luminosity.

Of course, that could be the Cosmo talking.