The Coolest Girl I know turned fifty a week or so ago, and her regrettably obtuse exboyfriend had the balls to send her an email asking for “immediate” help for one of his lady friends on the day before her birthday. He didn’t bother to close the note with a happy birthday wish. When she quoted the subject line I thought it was one of those Nigerian spam emails asking her to send bank information so they could deposit millions of dollars into her account. She sent it to me because she wasn’t sure if he was being a complete dick or is simply obtuse. I’ll spare everyone my response to his message. Let’s just say it was colorful and I deemed him an obtuse dick. A few days later, I was finally over my ire and then the pity set in. It must be terrible to walk around through your life completely clueless to how your selfish actions hurt those you say you loved and still want to share a friendship with. Coolest Girl handled it with her characteristic aplomb, verve, and class (with a C). Given our advancing ages we both decided it would behoove us to start channeling our inner Helena Bonham Carters because life is too short to be well-behaved and demure, right? Now I just need to get an amazing hat, mini bustle skirt, and bustier.
Hell, if I can’t weigh 135 pounds and wear a size 8 without a trace of back fat, I might as well live balls out and dress a little more like HBC. Maybe I’ll wear this as a hat.