Even More About the Red Dress

I realized after re-reading my original post that it made it seem like I would be wearing Jenny's original dress. That is not so. You see, so many women have been inspired by the story of the traveling red dress that women from all over the world started sending them to other women who needed to feel beautiful and powerful. They started a facebook page and women began meeting each other through the power of social media. I don't know how much information my dress owner wants me to share here, but I can tell you that she and I have never met, she seems like an amazing human being, and there are too many states for me to remember between Texas and Virginia.

And the dress! It's like nothing I would have ever purchased for myself, but I think that's the point of the project. It's red and glittery, almost like a red disco ball without mirrors. Here is a picture of the back:

 I'm pretty sure that scoop is too low for a bra, but I fixed the problem by buying a small, balero-type black cardigan. I'm also hoping that will help camouflage my giant arms. I can't tell you the last time a thin, strappy dress was on my body for just this reason.

Here is the front:

See? It's glittering and fabulous. The dress owner was also kind enough to send me a card, that somehow perfectly fit exactly what I was feeling when I opened the package:

Just in case you can't read it, it says, "Life is full of pain, misery,

Just in case you can't read it, it says, "Life is full of pain, misery, disaster, disease, sadness, tragedy, malevolent rabbits (I think that's what it says, I'll have to find the card again to double check), anger, violence, death....But this little owlie's awesomeness negates all that."

And so it did. I'm to the point in my life, my career, and my volunteerism, where it feels like everyone wants to take something from me or use something that I foolishly offer. I'm fostering a puppy (a puppy!) for Seven and, sure, the dog is cute, but wow, I had no idea how hard it would be to house train a 3 month-old puppy. She pees in her crate, she pees in my bedroom, she poops either two feet in front of the door or two feet outside the door, and she fights with Sam constantly. Dinner time for all three animals in the house makes me feel like I'm running an animal shelter. Everyone is crying and whining about me not getting them their food fast enough.

Then there is a problem with my meds. I have some medication that I don't take every day (mostly because I would be in a perpetual state of semi-consciousness haze that I don't enjoy on a regular basis). Sometimes my friends ask me for my extra meds. I never sell them because that's clearly illegal and giving them away is only, what? Partially illegal. I don't know. It's a grey area for me. The problem is when my friends start requesting meds that I take every day because I need them. One of them is a controlled substance that requires me to get a written prescription every month. Someone came over to my house and left the next morning. About twenty minutes after she had left, I got a text saying, "Oh, I forgot to get one of your XXXX. I guess you forgot to give it to me". I was floored. I don't give out that med and I in no way forgot to give one to her. I'm not a pharmacist. I'm not even a physician's assistant. I have what I have because I need it.

So I was feeling used in every way and then I got this wonderful package that was sent specifically for me, to make me feel better. I almost started crying. Someone, a stranger, was thinking about me when it felt like no one else in my life was. It was beautiful.