I am interrupting my originally planned initial post to bring you this a story of love lost and found at the Lilly Pulitzer sale Sunday.
This blog will chronicle my struggles as an artist to finish and publish my first book. I will cover a variety of topics. Some future post titles include: How I broke my thumb riding a mechanical bull, Why querying and dating are disturbingly similar, and How when you lose your laptop in NYC, you might find yourself adopting two cats who embody the spirits of famous authors. Stay tuned for that and more….
In the meantime, For the Love of Lilly:
Sunday morning at five thirty a.m., I was drinking coffee in my pajamas and texting with my daughter who is studying abroad in Florence, Italy. I hadn’t slept all night and I was starting to sweat like a drug addict of sorts. I would specify which sort, but not being an actual drug addict myself, I don’t really know which sort sweats. In fact, I don’t where this association even comes from, but I digress. Anyone who knows me can attest to this- digression is, for me,a way of life.
I’m sick Sierra- I don’t know that I can go to Target right now, I texted her.
I had some version of the flu that began Thursday afternoon, hence the sweating. When I managed to crawl from bed Saturday afternoon to the couch and turned on Keeping Up With the Kardashians, I saw the commercial for The Lilly Pulitzer line at Target, scheduled for release the next day. I had forgotten about it. I texted my daughter, and then through the miracle of social media, mainly twitter, I began to realize how difficult it was going to be to get anything. Though I stayed awake all night- phone in one hand, ipad in another and laptop on the table, only my daughter, in Italy, was able to purchase a few things. My plan to stay on the couch in my pjs was foiled, yet I wasn’t so sure I could go to my local Target.
Too sick for Lilly at Target, I don’t think so, she texted me back.
I’m going in my pajamas then with greasy hair. If Target is making me shop sick, they will have to take me as I am, I replied.
I got in the car and Stevie Wonder was on the radio singing Isn’t She Lovely… There were moments during the night when, like most other people trying to shop this sale, I was among other things- pissed. I wanted to go to bed. It seemed stupid. But as I drove, thinking about my relationship with my daughter and some of the more difficult moments we have had since I divorced her father and started dating, I realized the best treasure from this night of crazy shopping and sleeplessness would be neither pink nor green nor covered with animals or tropical vegetation. It would be the memory of us spending eight hours plotting, scheming, and laughing even though she’s in Italy and I’m in Philly.
All that being said, when a woman saw my cart full of items- I wound up being sixth in line,and literally sprinting through the store to get what I could- and asked “Is there anything you don’t want?”
I paused for a moment before I answered. I am the kind of person who likes to share, but I had to be honest with her and myself, “No, I’m sorry. I want everything.”
Photos below: me, sick and disgusting on the Target sidewalk., the Lilly Jeep, assorted loot, the chairs we desperately needed here at the colony.