Memoirs of a Fat Girl

What do you wear to a meeting with destiny?

Clothes. Duh.

But to be more specific, if there is such an outfit in your closet that makes you feel comfortably kickass, that's the one. Ask no further questions, just put it on and spend the rest of your prep on face and hair.

Better yet, just go as yourself. That's what he remembered best, no?

The last time Sandy saw me, I was probably in jeans and a t-shirt. My hair was insane, my eyebrows weren't plucked because I hadn't started doing that yet, and I was most likely clammy and nervous. Hell, I was always clammy and nervous when I saw him.

Time for some comfortable kickass, meaning the Punk Royals stayed on. Sure they're baggy, industrial, dark green and showcase choice words on my bum, but I love them. I love them, and I love me in them. Done.

But heavens to Betsy, what to match? Easy: long white tank top bunched up in all the right places, and shorter, sheer white blouse on top of that. Middle Eastern silver stayed on, too.

Makeup, simple. Yes I know I'd had that incredible session with Sassy Sandra that made me see the errors of my ways, but I didn't want to look too overdone right off the bat and so, stuck to my holy cosmetrinity of liner, mascara & gloss.

Hair, down. Thank you to the makers of Modern Organic Products C-System Reconstructing Treatment for this positively swell hair day. Luscious, flouncy curls aplenty.

Flips flops, leather bag and *plenty* of perfume sealed the deal. Bulgari Red Tea, I do believe. I'm a sucker for a good smelling man, and like to think that at least some men out there appreciate the same in women.

It was 10 something when Sandy texted that he was in the neighbourhood, and I suggested he pick me up at the corner. Not that I'm one to be waiting on street corners in the dark, but I wanted our first hello after all this time to be private. I mean, could you imagine if I'd asked him to pick me up at the house?

OPENING SCENE: OUR ENTRYWAY. DOORBELL RINGS, THE DOG BARKS, MOMS ANSWERS THE DOOR.

Moms: SANDY! (suffocates him in a bear hug)

Me: Uh, mom, it's my turn now...

Nada, no thank you, there will be none of that mess today. Street corner it was.

It was a chilly night, unseasonal for mid-August, but gorgeous and clear. Our house is fourth from the sign, and so the walk wasn't very far. Only a couple of minutes to ponder, contemplate, and (attempt to) ignore the gigantic knot in my stomach. I could see a hint of car from where I was, but a pine tree blocked the rest of my view.

Was I nervous?

Oh yeah.

But I was even more excited, and picked up the pace. Turned the corner, and there he was.

Sandy.