I need some fantastic flats too.

First things first: How does Blogger pick their "Blogs Of Note"? And why the hell aren't I on it?

I had a lovely weekend, even though it poured like a big, pouring thing. Banana Republic was having their annual 50% off sale which is about the most exciting thing that can happen to a girl (at least this girl). No matter how adorable something is, if it's not on sale I won't buy it. I know full well it'll be on sale in a matter of weeks, seeing as how Banana is part of the Gap and they can't stand to leave anything sitting for more than two weeks. (I know this because I spent a miserable Christmas season stuck working their dressing rooms because I was deemed useless at the register and I could never master their fucking fold. Hell hath no fury like an Upper West Side mother without a size 2.) So a 50% off sale combined with my $20 rewards card (I love you, Banana Rewards Card) gave me a good little spree.

As I sat with my breathtaking friend Stefanie, I realized something: my wardrobe is significantly chicer than my life. I have several fantastic frocks just waiting for cocktails at the Waldorf with Woody. Do I often have cocktails at the Waldorf with Woody? Do I often have cocktails? Not so much, my friends. (And even when I do, I get tipsy after the first one. Who the hell wants to go out for "cocktail"?) I have more pairs of "dry clean only" trousers than I can shake a stick at which are perfect for little tiny hands to wipe their lunch on. And while I know I need a cute little hoodie and a rough 'n tumble skort, what I have are several adorable silk skirts and more than a few pairs of unwearable pumps.

I could go to Old Navy and buy "mom" clothes, but frankly I would prefer it if my life would just CATCH UP TO MY CLOSET. C'mon, life! Invite me to Artesinal for an evening with their famous fromage-elier! (You know, their cheese expert.) Wing me to Venice or Cannes or the Islands! (Any of 'em. I ain't picky.) Whisk me to the ballet with center orchestra seats, followed by cocktails with Conan O'Brien! (And while you're at it, find me some cute, comfortable shoes to go with.)

Get to it, Life. In the meantime, I need to go do some crunches.

* Until Life gets the memo, if anybody happens upon any cotton-poly blend hoodies - you know, the really thin, summery kind - can you let a girl know?