Born Too Late

I was looking through a fashion magazine yesterday and it was full of advertisements for straightening your hair. This made me realize how unfair life is:

I have the world's straightest hair. All my childhood I longed for curls. in my teens I tried home perms--frizzy disasters. Now I have the money to go to a good hairdresser guess what? The styles are all straight.

This is true in other areas too. Now I can afford to go to good restaurants, I can't eat too much or food that is too rich. The all-you-can-eat buffet which seemed so wonderful when we were young and penniless now has no meaning. I'm actually just paying for a salad.

Now I have no responsibilities for children and pets and could stay out all night, I'm pooped by ten.

Now I can afford clothes, nobody designs clothes for anyone over the age of eighteen. Dresses are either up to my thighs or down to my ankles with no shaping. I have been looking for a good dress to wear out to dinner for ages. There are cocktail dresses and prom dresses but the smart function dress, well cut, good cloth, simply doesn't exist. Neither do the "little women" my mother used to go to who would run her up a stunning dress and charge almost nothing.

I used to envy those international jet setters who were whisked around the world in First Class ease. These days everyone has to endure the long lines at security, taking off shoes, jackets, scarves and being groped, even if they are traveling business or first. Not so much fun. And on the plane those lovely meals have been shrunk to a bag of chex mix.

Have you had similar experiences? Were you also born too late?

Love is Murder

I'm sitting at snowy O'Hare, hoping that my flight will be on time, on my way home from three days in very, very, very cold Chicago.
But you know, these midwesterners are tough. I arrived a few hours after O'Hare opened on Thursday and was whisked off to speak at a library that evening. The roads were scary for someone like me who never sees snow. On the interstates one or two lanes were cleared but there were great banks of snow beside the road and one had to spot the exit by the gap in the snowbank. Luckily my driver was a confident local.
We arrived at the library to find snowbanks all around it. The temperature was 6 degrees and dropping. Seriously I thought nobody would come. But we had a sell-out crowd. They turned people away. I was so impressed. I know I wouldn't have ventured out on a night like that. So if you're reading this and you came--thank you, thank you.
Once again it made me realize how much Chicagoites love their libraries.

The conference was at a hotel with spectacular modern artwork. It was a fun small mystery/thriller/romantic suspense con--very friendly, very well run. I had interesting interviews and attended some really good panels. Highlights were the lunch time interview wth Libby Fisher Hellman, who asked some really new,fresh questions, and then winning the Lovey Award for best mystery series at the banquet. What a surprise that was.

After dinner an event I wasn't so sure about--Joe Konrath put on a Stump the Stars panel in which he read out snippets form our books and we were supposed to know which book in came from. If we got it wrong he roasted us. If we got it right he roasted us too. Fun but a little scary.

So now I come to the journey home. I love winning awards. I am honored. BUT do they have to make the awards to look and feel like weapons when I have to go through airport security. This one was about eight inches tall and made of marble. Of course it looked suspicious and I had to take it out of my bag and show the woman that it was an award and it had my name on it!
I didn't add that it could still kill somebody quite nicely, name or no name!!
At least it wasn't as heavy as the tombstones I once won at Bouchercon.

More when I get home, but a big thank you to all at Love is Murder. I had a great time.