It’s not a skirt…

This past Saturday, my friend Mary Claire and I ventured over to Durham for an eventful evening.

We started the night at Dame’s Chicken and Waffles (well… we went, put our name on the waiting list, wandered the streets for an hour, and then we got our waffles). I got panko-crusted chicken, a plain waffle, a side of mac and cheese, and a raspberry mimosa. So yeah… I’ve had worse meals.

After our wonderful dining experience, we walked to the Durham Performing Arts Center to watch David Sedaris read some of his essays. I didn’t know much about the writer, but I did know that many hours of my precious formative years were spent listening to my mom read out funny parts of his books to me.

Perhaps my favorite part was his entrance. David walked out onto the stage to introduce a fellow author for a short reading at the beginning of the show, and he stopped himself in the middle of his introduction.

“It’s not a skirt… they’re culottes,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and twisting from side to side. As if we knew what culottes were.


I wish I could write something insightful and hilarious about the show, but I’m afraid that nothing I can say will do it justice. Instead, I’ll let you read his essays for yourself:

Leviathan – a great piece about turtles, family, and Emerald Isle

Stepping Out – my personal favorite (because finally someone understands my relationship with my Fitbit)

And for all the lazies out there, here’s a less-than-2-minute video clip of David talking about his not-skirt culottes with Jimmy Fallon:


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