Seersucker pants

The lovely Joseph from my new job came in today wearing green seersucker pants and white shoes!! How brave! Actually, he pulls it off quite well, as you can see. He is very slender, and fair, and looks at home in an outfit that you can imagine someone beating the help in. At my age, though, if I wore green seersucker pants and white shoes, I would probably be mistaken for a crazy person, or for the Morgan Freeman character in "Driving Miss Daisy."

Alex

Alex is so cool! I wanted to blog about him, so I pretended to admire his shorts. They are nice, but 'no big deal,' as it were. Really, the limitations of only being able to talk about outfits on this blog are beginning to chafe. As for Alex, I don't want to bed him, I don't need to befriend him, I just enjoy letting him know that I'm crazy enough to befriend. I told him my ghoulish Natasha Richardson joke, and my macabre Michael Jackson joke, and sure enough - he knows I'm crazy now! Apparently, he's an actor on some show, so I'm not showing his face here.

Name tag

Here's me in front of my new name tag at my new office. My next door neighbor, Vanessa, took this pic. She didn't seem too thrilled to do it, either. :( But I am proud to have accumulated yet another name tag in my strange career. I still have my HMH name tag at home, on my desk. I wonder how many more name tags I will accrue in my life, how many more new sets of co-workers I will slowly reveal my insanity to, like babies that you lower into bathwater, to get them used to the temperature.

I am wearing a coral-colored shirt by Band of Outsiders, which got ink on the sleeves - I had them removed. I'm wearing my brown, dotted tie. Forgot who makes it. All day long, I wanted to take off the tie, as it really didn't match the shirt. But I ultimately stood by my fashion decision. I'm grimacing in the pic - I hate being photographed, and I try to grimace or open my mouth really wide in every photo of me, to ruin the shot. I'm sure that one day, someone will be putting pictures of me into some sort of memorial album, wondering why I never - even for one shot, just to have some nice image of myself preserved for posterity - relaxed a bit, tried to look presentable. It's because I'm a control freak, that's why!

George

I had a magical Saturday recently with my friend George. We went to see the new Johnny Depp movie, which was slow and beautiful and a little boring, like life itself. Then we had a lovely supper at a Mexican restaurant, then walked around for a bit. We met up with Miss P. and Nikhil, too - and we all tried to walk onto the Highline, but it was closed. Closed! I've never been, and I thought it would be nice to finally make Miss P. happy and do something outdoorsy on a Saturday evening. But it wasn't to be. Thank you, New York! You sweet, improbable and preposterous mistress. Who would think to close the one thing people seem to love about you on a weekend evening? You!

I loved George's outfit - it gave me hope for what my outfits will be when I'm George's age. Simple, classy, and cute. I don't remember what we did after the Highline debacle, but knowing me, I probably led them to Billy's for cupcakes, then said goodbye, goodbye.