I've turned into a girl lately - more so than before with my sparkly nail polish and love of purses. I started the day by pulling on a pair of tights, knee high black boots and a cowl neck sweater-dress that fell above the knee - all purchased for this day - well, this evening, rather. Nothing makes a girl feel better than a pair of tall boots and a cute dress.
These boots are a far cry from the tall steel toed combat boots of my youth. Falling just below my knee and fitted around my calves, with a low heel. And the dress is a random pattern of stripes in black and shades of grey. While I may be feeling a bit more girly lately, my color palette has not shifted into pink and sea foam. I retained the deep red glitter nail polish and my Riot Fest purse - it looks like a 1950's car interior. Shiny black, red sparkly front pocket and chrome detailing:
My coworkers, who are used to seeing me in t-shirts and jeans, stared in disbelief when I turned up that morning - a few even commented. I think some thought they were hallucinating or were hungover from the night before.
I digress. The fuss that I was making was because directly after work, there were reservations for four at a nice little Italian restaurant. A place for me, a place for my mother, a setting for my eldest sister and one spot for (dun, dun, dun!!!) Boyfriend. The worlds were about to collide and be irrevocably altered. Boyfriend would see that when I said "it's genetic" I really meant it and the family would see the person who kept me out late and drove me to distraction - enough so that I forgot things like birthdays.
It's been a long time since I brought someone "home to meet the family". This had significant implications for me - expectations and, oh, I don't know - it just had implications!! And I had been dreading the thought prior but by the time the day arrived, I wasn't as apprehensive. I still had reservations, of course, but not nearly to the extent that I had leading up to that fateful Friday.
We arrived early, Boyfriend and I. The evening was a bit chilly and I had forgotten to wear a coat. My sweater dress, while all sweater, was no match for a brisk Chicagoland breeze. We stood outside for a bit, I watched him smoke - white streams of nervous smoke pushed into the universe. I inspected every car for signs of my relations.
They arrived and I introduced them awkwardly through the rolled down passenger window as they waited for the valet to come take their vehicle. We walked in together and waited for a few moments while they sorted out our reservations and our table. We were seated and once drinks were ordered - a bottle of wine for the three of them, a diet Coke for me - it was on.
I felt like the bell had been run for a boxing match to begin. I knew the microscope was on Boyfriend but thankfully, they (mom and sis) were able to do it tactfully. The conversation ebbed and flowed while we scanned the menu. Appetizers were ordered as the wine was poured. We toasted. Boyfriend no longer seemed like he had vultures circling above him and my family no longer seemed like they suspected him of having dismembered bodies in his closet.
In fact, there was quite a bit of laughter, lots of talking, good food. I think I was abnormally quiet, letting the two factions get acquainted which presented no problems whatsoever. Once after dinner coffee was consumed, we stood and made our way to the door. We said our goodbyes and got into our cars - unscathed. Not that I was expecting a blood bath by any means but there is always the possibility...
All in all, it went quite well and rave reviews came from both sides.
I am a very lucky girl. I think it's the boots. :-)
