I was low key devastated when it was 42 degrees on Easter Sunday morning, but I didn’t let it deter me from wearing a white Easter dress with bare legs. The ten block walk to Church was borderline torture and I kept hearing my mother’s practical “tsk tsk” in my ear, but — “It’s APRIL! And Easter!”
I don’t know if it was the brisk walk or my recent transformation into a New Yorker, but an hour later, I yelled at the actress Ellie Kemper.
(How’s that for burying the lede? And name dropping? A two-fer!)
Not really, of course. I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at anyone, with the exception of that time I lost my mind while trying to negotiate with the scraggly set of swindlers and imbeciles known collectively as J.C. Penney, and I legitimately scared myself in the process. But on Easter Sunday, midway through the Nicene Creed, I noticed a doll-faced, red-headed beauty standing in the aisle with her adorable son, and I was so distracted, I reverted to the pre-2011 version of the prayer — “begotten not made…er…consubstantial with the Father” and then “in fulfillment…er, accordance with the scriptures.” [Apologies to non-Catholics — but the point is that I was tres distraite.] “It’s Kimmy Schmidt!” Mr. Magpie whispered in my ear, and I nodded. She was glowing, luminescent. (Who does her skin?!)
A little while later, Mr. Magpie and I were leaving the Church with minimagpie in her car — I mean stroller — and stood in the doorframe waiting for a couple with a similarly sized stroller to move. The husband seemed to be messing with the door stop, and the wife was idling in the middle of the door jamb.
“Thank you,” I said, misconstruing their presence in the doorframe as a kindness — they were opening the door for us? Then, when we remained in the same inert position for about ten seconds (a New Yorker’s eternity), I asked, matter-of-factly: “Are you coming or going?”
“Oh, let’s get out of the way,” said Kimmy Schmidt. I briefly transmogrified into the human equivalent of the bulging eyed emoji, then the emoji with the awkward broad grin.
“Thank you,” I said after we’d both descended the Church stairs with our strollers in tow. I waved awkwardly, as if I’d just then realized for the first time in my life that I had hands attached to my limbs. “Thanks again.” A cheshire cat grin. (Have I mentioned how awkward I have been in my few interactions with celebrities?)
Then we were off and Mr. Magpie promptly pulled out his phone to text our closest friends, with whom we have an ongoing text chain:
“Jen yelled at Ellie Kemper during Easter Mass.”
So, there’s that bit of lore that I’ll never live down, and then there’s the more reflective observation that maybe, maybe, MAYBE I could take a minute and slow down and cut someone some slack when leaving EASTER SUNDAY MASS after a Lent spent striving for gentleness in my interactions with others. (Badly done, Emma!) And then there’s also the fact that I can’t stop placing spring dresses in my shopping cart in a pathetic attempt to will warmer weather into existence, and had the weather only cooperated with my plans, I might not have been in such a snippy mood! But that’s neither here nor there — instead, my top picks for spring festivities.
Les Best Spring Dresses.
FULL-ON OBSESSED WITH THIS LABEL, AND ESPECIALLY THIS DRESS (SHOWN AT TOP OF POST!)
BECKY WITH THE GOOD SLEEVES (UNDER $100)
P.P.S. For the minis.