>There is a closet-size designer boutique a few blocks away from my apartment that sells utterly adorable little outfits. Since they are utterly adorable designer outfits, the prices are not remotely adorable. But they have blow out sales at the end of the season, and that is when I scooped this rockin' suit up for 40% off, although mine has a skirt instead of pants.

By then I had been unemployed for several months, so I had no where to wear it. I bided my time. Thursday, May 31, the day was right.

Scorching sun and high humidity blessed us New Yorkers. I thought a cutesy skirt suit would convey to Publisher that I was a Serious Author, yet also fun. The only problem? I had to shave my legs to wear it. Sometimes you just gotta make sacrifices for the greater purpose, you know.

Later, I called Agent Friend and said something about wearing a suit.

"You wore a suit?" he asked.

"Um, was I not supposed to? I knew I should have called you and asked!" Panic rapidly set in. I hoped I didn't blow my chances by being a stiff.

"Most authors just show up in a shorts and flip-flops, so I think that was good."

"Well, it was a creative looking suit," I explained.

He was still impressed by my fanciness. He should've seen me in a sari. (Foreshadowing...)