Note to self

Buy more professional clothes.

I am not one to assume stereotypes and immediately pass judgment, but I will admit that Compton was quite the experience. Here go the series of incidents that composed my jury duty fail today:
Fail 1. Way back when I postponed the date to now, I forgot to transfer it from Compton to my home area, where the most hullaballoo of a case would be a parking ticket by an elderly driver.
Fail 2. Didn't complete the online orientation by the 10-days-prior-to deadline, thus had to leave home at 7 A.M. to report by 7:45.
Fail 3. Parents probably placed the brochure elsewhere, but all I had was my summons in the envelope and wasn't aware of any type of attire requirements. Thus, I wore rubber flip flops and shorts because it was basically high 80's, then heard the announcement that such inappropriate attire = must postpone. I must now report back first week of September.
Fail 4. While waiting for dad to come back to pick me up from the courthouse (bless him, he insisted on driving me there and back for fear of my life and car), I walked a block to McD's, Compton. Bought myself the awesome and disgusting deluxe breakfast platter and dined quickly as there were three crazies shouting loudly to the whole place, as well as some unwanted creepy stares from others.
Win 1. Sitting on a bench while waiting for dad, I rendered this cute house that sat across the street:
The reason it is unfinished is because the scent of a homeless man nearby became quite prominent while I was drawing the gates, so I had to stop and smell the roses elsewere.
Also, I doodled that in the little notepad that came from the LAFF gift bags from the filmmaker reception this year, which brings me back to the film festival and to my postponement on that recap because I am trying to organize my thoughts to avoid an unnecessarily rambling post...and run-on sentences like this one.

Soooo, basically, I need more professional clothing. The lack of information on the summons only carries partial blame. I should've known better to wear something more appropriate for a courthouse. When we got home, dad also informed me that I need to start thinking about my presentation, now that I'm getting older. Flip-flops and sweats don't get one very far up the professional ladder.

When I dress professionally, I tend to veer toward the 75-year-old lady look rather than the 20something Vegas girl. A happy medium would be great, but I have yet to figure out the mystery of fashion. It's okay, though, Rach is my 80-year-old soulmate in clothing; kudos to skirts, sweaters, and florals. In a related note, not only do I enjoy watching The Golden Girls (R.I.P. Bea), but their styles must have also been imprinted in my brain. Win.