The one party I would enjoy

Some day I want to attend the White House Correspondents' Dinner.  Every year I watch all the clips I can find and it looks like a bash I could handle.  It would give me permission to laugh at folks I can't stand - you know, like Donald Trump and Fox News - and be among my own people, so to speak.

It would take me all year to figure out what to wear as I gather even the California contingent didn't show up in jeans.  And god only knows what I would do about my hair.  I went to my last chemotherapy infusion without a hat, only sprouting my half-inch of bright white hair - my hair has never been white before so I'm not sure what will happen next.  I had it buzzed to an even length after Steve said I looked like Yoda (thank you for sharing) and all week I have been in public, even to Juvenile Hall, with no hat.  I don't know what people think.

At the Correspondents' Dinner it may or may not be a problem.  I mean, I couldn't wear my usual baseball caps and wigs are just too itchy.  I even bought one of those five-inch black combs that guys tuck in pockets so I could keep all the ends smoothed down, but I don't think I could just whip that out at the Dinner.  (I used to have a stash of combs and brushes but, in a fit of pique last fall I dropped them all in the garbage as unnecessary clutter in my hair-free lifestyle.)

It might take me more than a year to get organized for this one....