I am about to leave for the airport and the oppressive heat outside is making me want to pack nothing more than halter tops and sarongs. I work for a Business Casual company but still fear that halter tops and sarongs might be too casual for my first ever business trip.
I feel like I am playing Business Lady, even though on this trip I will not be making any deals or pitching any business or exposing any corporate corruption. I am just taking a trip. But still, feeling like a Business Lady is fun, and causes me to imagine whether I would be a Kate-Hudson-journey-of-personal-growth Business Lady, a Julia-Roberts-scrappy-and-steely-girl-next-door Business Lady or a Reese-Witherspoon-little-miss-perfect Business Lady.
Oppressive heat aside, I love summer and I love summer in New York because lots and lots of movies come here and film and you actually have the opportunity to see Kate Hudson or Julia Roberts or Reese Witherspoon, dressed up in Business Lady wardrobes, walking from trailer to set, and you get to imagine that they spot you and think, She looks cool and now I must make her my friend, and then you are suddenly riding on private jets and attending awards shows, never as a hanger-on but rather as the down-to-earth soul mate with a quirky sense of humor and an impeccable wardrobe, and then you find yourself making goo-goo eyes at Peter Sarsgaard at the Independent Spirit Awards.
Also, I get to eat lots and lots of Italian ices during the summer. We did not have Italian ices in California. We had snow cones and shaved ice, both of which I would like very much right now, but Italian ices are a New York-specific summer treat and I prefer the neon-green pistachio flavor that can be found all along Court Street in the summer months. And I would much rather be eating a green ice than packing, which is what I am supposed to be doing because the car is coming in 45 minutes and I am still not ready.
Kent has the next two weeks off as he is done with his summer internship and school doesnít start until after Labor Day. He is a punk. Next weekend heís going to Ohio for his [trashy] cousinís wedding and I am having a weekend of total girly debauchery, as Caroline and Emilie are coming to visit, the Barneys Warehouse Sale is going on, and the husbands are not around. The weekend after than, I am taking husband to California for a weekend of family, wine tasting and visiting huge grocery stores with acres of parking. Nirvana.
Which is why, on this hot, hot day, the last official summer Sunday that Kent and I have together, all I want to do is eat Italian ices and sit on my couch. I would much rather play Work in October.