The Chronicles of Marna

She used to be such a sharp dresser.  Her look was classic with a trendy youthfulness. I’m guessing she was making those good decisions.

Then came that biker-babe-from-the-black-lagoon dress on election eve.  It was a fashion don’t.

As for the swearing-in outfit, I have mixed emotions. It looked a little fussy and over the top, what with the rhinestone embellishments, ribbon bow, beading, lace, AND olive gloves. As Michael Kors on Project Runway would say: “Edit! Edit!” In photographs the unique lemongrass color looked lovely amid a sea of greys and primary colors. However, one of the talking heads on TV said she looked like a Solid Gold Dancer and now I can’t get that image out of my head.

The inaugural gown: My first reaction was disappointment. It was so prom-y looking. Where is your wrist corsage? Plus she looked like she was having a devil of a time managing that train. I withheld judgment, thinking the dress probably looked better in person. The next day, bloggers went nuts. “A curtain” … “mummy bandages”… “cavewoman outfit” … “did she roll in cotton balls?” … “a bride” … “chenille bedspread.”

What have you done with our fashion plate First Lady? Bring her back!

As a college writing instructor, I’ve heard just about every excuse from students who show up without an assignment. “I printed it and set it on the counter and told myself ‘remember to bring it tomorrow’ and then I walked out without it,” confessed one freshman.

            I’m well acquainted with brain misfires. I once took a folding lounger out of my minivan because a friend was picking me up to go the beach. I placed the chair by the back door so I’d remember to take it with me. Then I inexplicably stepped over the lounger, climbed into the car, and forgot about the chair until we arrived at the beach.

            A basic principle is if something isn’t written down, it doesn’t count. Everything gets entered in my calendar or to-do list right away. Some people have accused me of being ridiculous, but it’s the only thing that works.

            My house is full of stenographer’s notebooks filled with miscellaneous lists. They’re by the phone, the computer, and on the kitchen counter. Sometimes I even leave a note for myself on the dresser before I go to bed. “Dentist—today—8 am!” Otherwise I’d linger over coffee, do a load of laundry, and forget the appointment until I got a call from the receptionist asking if I wished to reschedule.

            Get it in writing. It’s the best way.