Party on Wheels

Katie will be sixteen years old on October 10, and for months now, she's been full of plans for the occasion. She wants to rent out the roller rink and have them play her iPod loaded with Seventies music over the sound system. Everyone is to dress in Seventies best: Magnums for the boys and Daisy Dukes, lip gloss, and glittery eye shadow for the girls; and plenty of feathered hair, terrycloth headbands and wristbands, tight T-shirts, and tall striped socks for everyone.

I wish I had been that cool when I was sixteen.

She was planning it for Sunday, October 12, but my cousin is getting married that day and I hope to be in Maryland for the occasion. I hate to miss Katie's party. I may never have been the stylish creature she is - especially during the Seventies - but I wasn't a bad skater.

"We'll have it the weekend before, then!" says Katie easily. Yay! I'm popular!

Flashback to my sixteenth birthday: it was not all that dissimilar to Molly Ringwald's in Sixteen Candles, with three notable exceptions: (1) nobody in my family was getting married, (2) I didn't have lovelorn geeks dropping at my feet, and (3) I didn't end up with a hunk at the end of the movie. However, I did wear a hat to school that day.

MTV used to play music videos. They didn't have My Super Sweet Sixteen back then.

I'm excited about it, though. She's making all the plans and arrangements, and (assuming she manages to get a job she doesn't get fired from after the first shift) paying for everything herself. And I have to say it's a tremendously cool and fun idea. If I'd had her sense of retro coolness at her age, my super sweet sixteen party would have been a sock hop at the VFW hall; and none of my friends would have come anyway because they were all much too busy playing Dungeons & Dragons.

I wonder if my roller skates are still in storage at my dad's house?

Saturday Ramblings

I swear, I can quit blogging anytime I want.

Last night baby Anna climbed into bed with me and snuggled up close. She stroked my arm. "You have smooth skin, Mommy," she said. "Like a hot dog."

My skin is also delicious, apparently, as I'm being eaten alive. Still, it's a perfect day for sitting on the front steps with the plants, an entirely ineffectual citronella candle, and my iBook. Margie's moving over the next couple of weeks and I'm plant-sitting for her. Her plants are much cooler than mine.

If mosquitoes are so repelled by citronella, how come I find drowned ones in the melted wax? Remind me not to sit out here in daisy dukes anymore. I'm going to be incredibly itchy in some really embarrassing places tomorrow.

It's also a perfect day for installing my happy new hood ornament.