i blame the bang.
the connie bang, to be exact.
she of the "oh let's just run over to the hermes on rodeo, i have to pick up something."
i know, i know. i should have known better.
who "just picks up something" at hermes?
but, things are slow here,
so i went.
there is just something EVIL about hermes.
everything at first is quite lovely and, well, let's be honest,
a bit dull.
then you catch the gleam of something, and it's the hardware on a bag.
not just any bag.
a large bag. a gray/green/taupe/silvery pebbled leather bag. a bag that you see being carried not by movie stars, but by those impossibly chic italians in the place des vosges. a bag for the ages, as they say.
and then the doors to your mind open,
and you are in "le monde d'hermes",
as they say.
we browsed for nearly an hour,
touching things that would constitute a house payment,
or a second child from asia.
then, we had to get out.
but i had picked out a few key items.
for connie, something with yellow gold,
and brown diamonds:
for the pony i've always wanted.
you heard me:
should we get bored with our new toys,
a dream trip to a runway show.
perhaps the spring one.
and maybe some of the boys to bring back with us:
as for the aforementioned bag?
it's sitting at the store still.
feel free to pick up.
the ringing in my head is driving me bats.