Datebook: Thursday, July 27th

I consider this “the weekend” since we are leaving in four days and since departure is all that I am thinking about and because our costume designer called and prefaced the opening remarks with “There might be a problem”.

It is times like this you wish you were wearing a heart monitor just to see the surge.

The “problem”—the need for more crystals that have been special ordered from Austria and that are being FedExed to the States pronto but may not arrive until Monday. And then must be glued on and have drying time. Yes, crystals, like those I see lying all over the dressing room floors and lobbies of every competition in the country. Crystals that cost a dollar piece when purchased, but are as worthless as a Beanie Baby when found.

“Would it be a problem to wear something else for this one competition?”

It is hard to answer that question due to the air bubble that has formed in my throat—I suspect this is capsuling a suppressed scream. I pride myself that I sound like Condoleeza Rice when I reply, “No, Madam dressmaker, she has nothing else to wear”, when in reality I actually say, “NO. She can’t wear her Hickory Hoedown dress for a waltz. Oh my God. Can’t she just go with the 800 dollar beading package instead of the 1500 dollar beading package?”

I am searching my purse for my inhaler until I remember my doctor wouldn’t give me one because he used some technicality that you actually needed to step on the ice to qualify for skating induced asthma.

“She needs her costumes to look her best, so she will feel her best, so she will skate her best! If she doesn’t have her costumes she won’t feel the music.” I’m not even immediately aware that I am using parallelism—my 11th grade English teacher would be high-fiving me.

“I know, but she only wore her costumes last year four times, wouldn’t something from last year work, temporarily?”

I inhale sharply.

How do I explain…girls don’t wear prom dresses over and they certainly don’t wear last year’s Freedance costume at the premier of the season-- the red carpet of Lake Placid where we oogle and ahh at costumes and make notes of ideas for next year. Plus, if she only wears it three times instead of four it means (early morning math takes a few minutes longer), yes, each wearing is 689.00.

“I will call around and see if anyone I know has the right crystals, but I might have to pay more for them.”

“That’s okay,” I say, offering what seems to be the carte blanch ending to all skating matters. “Do whatever it takes.”

In my head I imagine all the Jimmy Choos I will never wear, or think of buying. This exposes the class system of skating. Mothers who would never, or rarely, buy a 2500.00 dress for personal use, will buy four or five of these lycra marvels a year for her skater. We can’t wait for it to go on sale, or use coupons. Maybe I should check with my credit card company and see if they have a rewards option for skating.

This of course reminds me that I need to stop by Marshalls to get new underwear for the trip. My daughter’s Victoria Secret order came last week.

Mombo #9