Running Out of Time: No. 33 of Andrea's #WeeklyEssayChallenge
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Quit? No. 32 of Andrea's #WeeklyEssayChallenge
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Brain at Work: No. 31 of Andrea's #WeeklyEssayChallenge
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Postal: No. 30 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge
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The Hard Edits: Why Every Writer Needs an Editor/Friend. No. 29 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge. Published in The Writer.
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Christmas Card. Host Allison Langer's Essay in The Washington Post
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My New Year's Resolution: Watch More TV. No. 27 of Andrea's #Weeklyessaychallenge
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Jewish Christmas. No. 26 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge.
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Oversharing on Facebook Can Lead to Good. No.24 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge
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The Things She Carries in Her Giant Purse: No. 23 of Andrea's #WeeklyEssayChallenge
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Funny Story...No.20 in Andrea's #WeeklyEssayChallenge
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Student Liz Marquardt Gets Published in the Selkie
I have always been very comfortable with my body, so I wasn’t bothered by having a doctor see me almost naked, though it did seem a little odd when he would have me stand in front of the mirror and open the gown.
Do I Have a Big Nose? No. 16 in Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge
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What Not to Write in Your College Essay. No. 14 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge
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The Memoir Writing Students. No. 13 of Andrea's #weeklyessaychallenge
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Student Liz Marquardt in Response to Prompt: Everyone Needs...
Everyone needs someone in their life who keeps them humble. For my husband, Bill, that person is me. I am not sure he knows how important a job that is, or how good I am at doing that for him, but apparently he appreciates it since he has stayed with me for the past 22 years.
To say Bill is fastidious or meticulous when it comes to his clothes is an understatement, even though those words are rather extreme. I think he is nuts about his clothes, but I do recognize my greatest fashion accomplishment is getting out the door without my shirt on backwards or inside out. One of the most important women is his life is the lady who owns the dry cleaner that presses his clothes, so his life priorities are clear.
Bill is always the best dressed guy at Home Depot. Last time we went there to get a new garden hose because he didn’t like that ours had gotten dirty, he wore Cole Haan loafers, a crisply pressed button down striped Brooks Brothers short sleeve shirt, and a pair of exquisitely creased and pressed Tommy Bahama shorts. He looked like somebody who walked in there because he needed something for his yacht and he mistakenly thought it was a marine store.
Last Friday, Bill left for work wearing black Hugo Boss jeans and a white long sleeve shirt that was so perfectly starched and pressed, it actually looked shiny. I found the outfit hilarious, but didn’t say anything as he said goodbye and walked out the front door. I waited until he called me later in the day when I said, “Did you go out for lunch today?”
“No, why?” he said.
“Oh nothing,” I said and laughed.
He said, “That didn’t sound like nothing.”
“Well,” I said, “I was afraid that if you were in a restaurant in that outfit, somebody might ask you for a menu.”
“Duly noted, next time I will wear a shirt with color.” He said.
It is rare that I score any humble points when it comes to Bill and his clothes, so I need to seize those rare opportunities when they arise. Particularly since I know that it will only take me a few days until the next time I have my dress tucked in my underwear, and Bill will smugly point that out.
