… I would be more confident, thinner and at least worth nothing (rather than a negative amount).
… I would be more confident, thinner and at least worth nothing (rather than a negative amount).
… and I wouldn’t accidentally post the same post twice. 
Glad I could help! Living vicariously through others…it’s what I do.
I used to have the occasional festive engagement back in the day, but it’s pretty much blue jeans for me anymore. I hope to get slightly gussied up for christmas or New Years…but my husband will be wearing his usual Discount Lumberjack look, so the effect won’t be quite as stunning as one would hope.
I’d have peace of mind and not worry about disease and getting old and getting fat and going to Hell and my parents dying and stuff like that.
In a completely different life I’d be a dashing Young Man About Town and take nightly turns escorting all you fine ladies in your fine evening dresses out for a meal at nice restaurants, followed by dancing at the local Hot Club[sup]TM[/sup], and we’d follow that up with a moonlight stroll. Or somethin’.
I actually played in that exact scene once, except I wasn’t rich. She wasn’t a jazz pianist, but a torch singer/piano player at a club just outside New Orleans. Your heart would melt when she did Cry me A River, Georgia On My Mind, stuff like that. She had beautiful red hair, and made much more money than I did.
The deal blew after a couple of months, but it was a helluva kick while it lasted. I’d show up at her club about midnight, hang around until her gig was over at 1 o’clock, then party in the French Quarter until daylight.
Leslie:Gone but not forgotten…
Oh, c’mon girl! You know you’re a killer in any slinky outfit you might choose to put on.
Someday I’m gonna show up in your neck of the woods, and you’ve promised to show me around Fells Point, sing some karaoke, take me for a ride in a water taxi, all that stuff. You’ll have to have snapped out of this blue funk by then! 
I’ve often wished my parents made more of themselves growing up.