Amy Mosiman: Human Disco Ball

I am REALLY trying to be a good sport here...but enough is enough.

"Amy, I had a dream that you cut your hair," said one of the most beautiful women in the world.

I cut my hair.

"Amy, is this the 17th day in a row that you've worn those shoes?" asked another curiously.

I bought new shoes.

Somehow...without actually signing myself up for it, I am now "working out."

Without my consent, bottled water is now reluctantly housed in my classroom.

But Erin's year-long battle to bring (a little?) sparkle to my life has taken on a whole new dimension in this school-wide Amy Mosiman Improvement Plan.

An anonymous package arrived in the mail and what looked like medieval chain metal slid out. I was practically blinded by red and silver sequins. When I could see again, I checked for a return address. Nope. Well, this was a no-brainer. It had to be Erin.

So...the next day, sporting silver sequins, I slinked into the school and hoped no one would notice me. That, unfortunately, was not to be as, according to my "friend" Felicia, I looked like a human disco ball.

My day began by the copier as I watched my other "friend" Traci wrestle with and then subsequently break the office stapler. She stared at me in silent horror...damaging office supplies carried quite the weighty penalty. Many would elect to have their eyeballs plucked out of their heads by a third world dictator rather than face the wrath of our office secretaries. I was attempting to summon some sympathy in my unintentional role as blinding beacon of hope but that was quickly squelched when Traci, as a clever distraction technique, began calling out attention to my attire. Erin's inner radar honed in on me and we were off to the races...literally. Her squeals of joy reached me before she actually could because I had dashed (lumbered) off down the hall before she easily caught me.

Erin is a lot of things. Annoying. Embarrassing. Inappropriate. Kind of pretty. Perky. Bubbly. Moderately intelligent. Loud. Bendy. Frustrating. Sweet. Exasperating. But one thing Erin isn't is a liar. She insists that she was not my anonymous benefactor of blinding blouses.

"Wait," she shrieked, "You have another one?!?"

Yes...in red.

 "I have one too!" she shouted happily, to the surprise of NO ONE. She immediately began making plans to schedule a red sparkle day on Valentine's Day. I firmly said no. SOMEONE has to establish boundaries with this woman...she is out of control. I conceded that I would wear my red disco ball shirt the day BEFORE Valentine's Day...clearly demonstrating that I was in charge of my own wardrobe destiny. She pouted briefly before her ever-present smile reappeared. "Why can't you wear it on Valentine's Day?" she wondered.

I lifted my chin, refusing to be embarrassed. There are some hills worth dying on. "I have a dachshund Valentine's Day shirt that I'm planning to wear," I told her, bracing myself for her mirth. "I can't wait to see it," she cheered, clapping her hands. Erin is such a good sport.

As a side-note, I had gone out to eat that night with my friend Joan. When the waitress, Kayla, brought our drink order, I was delighted to see my hot chocolate adorned with red sprinkles. Thanking our server, she shrugged and smiled. "You just looked like that kind of girl," she said.

Cue deafening scream.