Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler

Pretty much how I am feeling about everything.

I have such a cool story of actual merit to share with all of you, but it is going to take me more than five minutes to pull together and so you are all being treated (HA-HA) to what I believe is called a placeholder while I get my thoughts organized.

But, did you notice the word, "placeholder"? Yes, folks, I now can write in BOLD and in italics... not using Internet Explore means that the Blog This! options aren't available to my sorry Safari-ass self... I have had to hunt for this solution.

Watch me BOLD and italic-ize all over the fucking place. Maybe at the same TIME!!

As I have mentioned before, Jake and Jack attend our local parochial school (of which NOT ONE PARENT knows about this blog) which I think is funny to call, "St. Give Me All Your Money"... patron saint of the handout... which, I understand because we receive approximatley $12 a year from the powers that be in Vatican City... what with all those pesky and expensive lawsuits, and the Pope-mobile and um...art work preservation...

Anyhoo... I digress.

Our big annual fundraiser in coming up in a couple of weeks and I chair the decorations committee (which I have done for the past 2 years) and, as our theme has always been Mardi Gras, it isn't exactly reinventing the wheel each and every time... the theme, in fact, has been Mardi Gras for 6 years. 6 years! Do you know how much stuff you can acquire in 6 years?? I have enough beads to safely buy myself Manhattan.

Soooo, last year, I am looking around the ballroom at the Ritz-Carlton and I am thinking how very festive everything looks and sort of secretly patting myself on the back, when the Chairs of Mardi Gras boogie on over and get me, right then and there (because the last thing in the world they want to do is con someone else into the thankless job and, of course, the whole "open bar" has made some of us (me) more agreeable), to swear on everything I hold sacred that I will be back to do decorations the following year. I am well, a little drunk, and really all puffed up with myself and I agree... of course! I can think of nothing I would rather do than, once again, decorate this ass-ugly ballroom with it's burgundy and rose gold chairs (but, the chairs do work with our theme!)! Yes and thank you for asking!

One word people. One word. KATRINA

That bitch not only TOTALLY fucked up the entire Gulf State area, but also, fucked up our fundraiser.

(please don't feel the need to reprimand me for not sounding more sensitive to the victims of the hurricane... the situation breaks my heart and I have done as much as I can to contribute to the displaced and to the rebuilding.)

In this world of political correctness, our poor Chairs were greeted back to the new school year with the mandate that:

School - "We cannot have a Mardi Gras theme because it is insensitive to those in New Orleans!"

Chairs - "Well... it is only September, and you know, Mardi Gras isn't until Feb., I think..."

School - "NO! We are rich white folks (FYI: "me", not part of the rich "we") and we will show our solidarity with the many displaced African Americans in New Orleans by changing the theme of our fundraiser!"

Note: New Orleans? Totally celebrating Mardi Gras.

This rather bullshit exchange sends everyone into a panic and we arrive at a new theme: Black and White Gala.

Or, something that just may cost us a pretty penny...

People - Black and White? Hello. Um, I signed on for purple, gold and green... we have nothing, and I mean NOTHING that is either black or white. Well, Ok, I guess I need to buy all new stuff... with my, and don't laugh, $800 budget. Ok, laugh.

Done?

$800 is truly chickenshit money, but of course, as we have 6 years worth of doo-dads and jingles and jangles, we haven't been in the market for any sort of budget increase... we've been fine.

Clearly, Houston, we have a problem.

You have to understand that I can be a bit obsessive about certain things and one of them is making sure that I don't, you know, LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE!! We all know how women can be and if this Gala looks as though it was cobbled together I will have to kill myself and then move.

I am thinking orchids and swanky linens. My budget says, "enjoy mylar balloons and daisys". I need to McGyver this decorations thing and the problem is that I am not clever. I cannot decopage or faux-paint or make a silk purse from a sow's ear... I am worthless and have always relied on things like say, A REASONABLE BUDGET, to make sure I can do the job at hand.

My saving grace is in the form of the two impossibly attractive event chairs who are all for digging in their sofas to help facilitate the cash flow.

Here is what I may have to do...pretty much whore myself out to the (thankfully gay so no real virtue compromise there) floral designer at the Ritz. Then, I may have to whore myself out to the plant guy (who is not gay so things may get sticky... I count on my husband to understand that a girl has to do what a girl has to do) and finally, break the news to Hugh that not only am I possibly obligated to provide the plant guy with some questionable fun, but that, if push comes to shove, I am spending our own money so that things don't look trashy and I don't become known as the girl who did the ugly decorations.

The Lovely Hugh: So, we are going to spend eleventy million dollars on table linens?

Self: Yes! Exactly!

The Lovely Hugh: I am not really on board with this. In fact, it sounds stupid.

Self: You are so unreasonable!

Hugh: (please note demotion from "lovely") Kristin, no.

Self: Ummm... too late? KIDDING, Hugh... I'm kidding!

That went over really well. REALLY WELL. Apparently the thought of me and the plant guy is more palatable.

Wish me luck and send me money.