sparkles and subtlety

I'm sick. bleh. It's just a cough and I'm on a z-pack and all will be well, but for the time being I'm just a little less than thrilled. It's ok though I've been able to lounge today and miss class and even though I have a fair bit of work to do it will be done at a leisurely pace from the comfort of my covers and all will be well.

I spent this weekend visiting a friend who attends Bucknell University. I didn't get to see too much of the school, or Maroon 5 for that matter (but that's another story) but it was great to see my friend and have a change of pass from the chaotic Vassar humdrum. I know that seems like a gross oxymoron, but I think it's true. Vassar is alive with activity. There are the proactive students and the chronic stress baskets scurrying about as if the apocalypse were at their heels. (speaking of which I saw 2012 this weekend. it was entertaining, but dumb) Anyway, it seems like there's constant rotation of events and work and parties and activity that eventually start to mush together into the same old thing every week, and thus you get humdrum out of chaos. Sounds like a creation myth, doesn't it?

My, oh my! Look how we've deviated. Back to the story, which I must confess isn't as much of a story as it is a vehicle for the possibly the greatest one-liner I've ever heard in my life. So, I'm in Lewisberg Pennsylvania. It's cute. It's no Poughkeepsie, but it'll do. We park in town and mosey into what can only be described as a pack rat's wet dream. It was a sprawling dingy metropolis of various antiques and crafts that would make anyone's grandmother weak in the knees.

Now, antiques aren't my thing (although artifacts are. Go puzzle that one out.), but I did come out of the ordeal with a fantastic purchase. Nestled in the corner of christmas knick-knacks station was a shrine dedicated to the women of the Red Hat Society. Among the broad red rims and purple flowers and feathered accessories was one lone simple baseball cap. Of course, in order to catch my eye there had to be something special about this cap, and indeed there was. The brim was a rich purple, the rest, a saucy red, and the whole damn thing was covered in sequins. Delicious.

I placed it on my head, stomped over the register and with a grin on my face contemplated my great fortune to come upon such a treasure. As I fidgeted in line, I played with the cap and invented a full host of ingenious ways it could be styled for any occasion. You could flip the brim for some hipster appeal, or wear it backwards for street-cred, or even off to the side to signify that you're just that cool. I even concluded that it could be worn inside-out for a more subtle effect.

Of course, each of these discoveries was vocalized and demonstrated for the sake of the entire market, and upon vocalizing the most demure way to don my gay apparel, the woman behind me in line leaned in, parted her sagely lips, and noted, "When you like sparkles, there's no such thing as subtle." And I'll let that speak for itself.