cleavage at the christies

Okay, Songbird won. I'll just get that out and be done with it. I thanked God and everybody else that night. And I still feel that way. I've never won an award before, so this was highly cool.

Phyllis Tickle spoke and she was charming and deep and fabulous, fabulous, fabulous. She's just one of those fabulous older women who are still pretty but have these . . . fabulous heads on their shoulders and they speak and you go, "Whoa, like I'll ever think fabulous thoughts like that." And of course, you say it in, like, that, like kind of voice because that's how lame you feel in comparison but you can't help but like them because there's something really authentic and Jesusy about them. I'd like to say I want to be like her when I grow up, but some things you just know aren't gonna happen. Now, if I said that about someone like Phyllis *Diller* I'd at least be within shooting distance.

So, the overriding memory of the evening for me, the action I remember doing the most, is pulling up my neckline. Honestly, friends, it was FINE in the dressing room! But I had worn a different bra, and the underwire contraption I strapped on at the awards was pushing things up that should have been left alone! So I stood and the platform, thanked the universe, cleavage haunting me the whole time. "You're Inappropriate . . . inappropriate . . . ina . . ."

So maybe the cleavage was really just some real-life, creative imagery going on there. I am inappropriate, I guess. I just was hoping it would show up more in statements of blinding, slicing brilliance and not in my brassiere!

BTW, Phyllis Tickle, as far as necklines, has much better sense than I do. Which is hardly surprising now is it?

grace,

lisa