After enduring the hottest September ever in Austin, forgive me if I'm feeling a little self-indulgent. A few weeks ago, before I had any idea that I would be able to grill cheese on my driveway well after official Fall was upon us, I had the chance to take a weekend jaunt, scheduled for today, to the land of Real Autumn, Real Winter, Real Spring and Summer for Wimps. That land is known to us here as Up North. The specific destination is not important: as far as I was concerned, temperature was a major draw, but as it happened, there was also lunch on someone else's tab in the offing, as well as some scenic farm country. In anticipation of the occasion, I dragged Q3 on a shopping expedition. I wanted sweaters. I love sweaters. They're practical, they're comfortable, and if you choose wisely, they're very flattering. But they don't get much wear here in Austin.
Q3 has many talents but perhaps the most surprising is her knack for fashion. People who read this blog very, very regularly will notice her hand in the foreign word usage and translations. And she helps behind the scenes with copy editing (if you see mistakes it isn't because she isn't doing her job- she sometimes stays quiet to spare my feelings). But her other passions include hating Democrats and helping the people around her dress better. She once rather plaintively observed, "B, you could wear anything...you're the only person I know who could wear horizontal stripes!" such was her frustration with my style, which I choose to describe as insouciant. That she has real talent in this regard is undisputed. If proof is needed, let's just say that the last dress she helped me pick out stopped a certain volunteer fireman dead in his tracks and made him miss a heretofore sacrosanct training meeting. The reprimand he received from his higher ups "was worth it." So gallant.
Our shopping was successful: two sweaters that can only be described as fetching. And, umm...form fitting. But alas! The trip was cancelled and today I sit forlornly and observe that the weather in the Up North will approach 600F, true, htG sweater weather. As if by way of compensation, the weather here has become somewhat more amenable to my purchases but truly, 900F is a bit warm for these still-tagged garments.
Nevertheless, I will be going to lunch, a birthday lunch at a venerable Austin TexMex place, reputedly a favorite of LBJ's, with Q3 and another Quidnik, where we will undoubtedly discuss the latest Lesbian Poetry Slam Film and Rosie O'Donnell's foray into free verse. That should have a chilling effect on something.