Looking around my office is like walking down memory lane… or maybe it’s Working Girl Lane up to the winery. I’m not a hoarder and I don’t like clutter but I do like to gaze beyond my monitor and look at the stuff that represents the evolution of this Working Girl.
Thinking about these relics of my past can put me in a zone when I need creativity or kick me out of the proverbial funk. Each has a story. I remember the immediate rush when I first pounced on the object or idea… emotionally pegging what I was dealing with, even if I didn’t know it at the time.
First vintage of the Working Girl Wines… a beginning
Painting “Curse of the Good Girls”
A Pamela Hastings’ doll “Love Yourself” with a bit of the Hot Flash couture
Collection of white rocks and hearts
“I’m so tired of being the bitch” t-shirt
Small Quilt “Go With the Flow”
Message In a Bottle
And, solid brass balls
This week a new “art piece” joined the menagerie and along with it comes this story…
A few weeks ago, the four fab friends (me being one of them) headed to Seattle for a 24 hour get-away. All have businesses and it took some finagling to get us loaded up and out of town. Then we crossed Hood Canal Bridge. I may have imagined it but there seemed to be a collective sigh and a slight release of that every day level of own your own business type tension. We all started talking. Chill
The reason for our trip was a special goodbye to one of our friends who was moving across the country. This was not an easy decision for her and she seemed to have her emotions on hold talking about the move in a distant sort of way. Chill
This trip was a new adventure as we are all new to this “girlfriend experience”. Conversation was still on a safe level. We all admitted, though, that we never really had girlfriends. Chill
Still hadn’t really started to relax… needed to drop off wine in Auburn on the way and got totally lost. Car GPS and phone GPS taking us two different routes. Again tense. I was wasting our precious time. I’m the queen of the u-turns, finally found I-5. OK Chill
Arrived at hotel. Had surprise bottle of champagne and strawberries in room. Popped the cork, sipped cold champagne and talked some more. The hotel was serving our Working Girl Wines during wine hour in the lobby. Needed to make an appearance. Never did. This was our time. Chill
Conversation turned to tattoos… believe it or not. Two of us had tattoos and it turned out after more champagne that we all wanted a shared memory tattoo… we decided on a peace symbol as our theme and each would pick their own design. A few calls later we had a 10 p.m. appointment (after dinner and martinis). Picture four “gracefully aging” ladies walking into a skanky tattoo parlor. All I can remember before make a fast retreat was this very large guy, bare butt up with a guy working on his tattoo. Really Chill
Walked the city and talked more. About ex’s and everything in between. Sweet Chilling.
The “morning after” we noshed through the market and reality starts to set in. We’re on a schedule. Back to work. Race for the ferry. Chill
Turns out we all did get our tattoos a few days later, each of us overlapping time slots for moral support. We forgot that the guy doing our tattoo was in the room, the buzz of his instrument just became background noise. We started at 9:30 a.m. and finished at 6:30 p.m. The damn tattoos hurt but not as much as saying goodbye. Chill
Back at work. I look to the right of my monitor. A doll, appropriately named “Chill” greets me every morning. She reminds me of my three new friends… all individuals, learning to chill, dropping our guard, opening up to trust.
In friendship, Kathy