Right now I think you're gettin' ready to head to Monday night karaoke. Not me, not tonight. I need to rest and stuff. Also I really can't afford to have one of those dirty Pabst Blue Ribbon hangovers tomorrow, since we need to bustass on the shop.
My mom told my Aunt Jean about our blog and she read it (hi, Aunt Jean!), and then she e mailed me to tell me not to flush Puff's down the toilet because it will mess up the plumbing. I know, man, I was desperate! Anyway, Aunt Jean, as soon as I posted that blog about the kleenex, Brax came over and dropped off a roll each of paper towels and TP, so I'm good.
Tonight I went shopping for jeans. The whole thing pretty much got my goat.
I hate shopping. Nothing makes you feel worse about yourself than shopping. First I tried on about 700 pairs of jeans in the Junior's department. See, I was told I should check Juniors, because they have odd numbered sizes, and I've been having a lot of trouble with the even numbers. I used to be an 8. Then I was a 10. 8. 10. 8. 10. NEITHER!!!!! Now I'm kind of a 9. I do not understand these fluctuations. My lifestyle is pretty steady. My theory is that my weight is affected by stress.
I don't even have a scale, you guys. My target weight is NOT BUYING JEANS.
So anyway, I was shopping for jeans and I was in Juniors, and whenever I'm in that department I'm A) afraid of knocking over a skinny teenager with my ass and B) sort of afraid the popular girls will make fun of me. So I tried on all these pants and found two that were ok, but man, they sure are making jeans ride low. Is this what the young girls are wearing?
So I headed over to the women's department and found these jeans that fit me perfectly except they were mom jeans. They came up to my neck and ballooned out around my thighs. I kind of wanted to shoot those jeans with a gun. If only I'd had a gun in my handbag.
In the end I bought two pairs of jeans, from the Junior's department, one a size 9 and one a size 11 (Why? How? Hate pants.) but I'm not really in love with them and I may take them back.
After the jeans I headed to the bra department and I do not even want to talk to you about it.
All I know is that I meandered around the bra department for a really long time trying to find the Playtex Thank Goodness It Fits Bra, which has half sizes. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were all these signs that said "full figured." I know that it is hard for girls with big 'uns. I want y'all to be able to find nice bras. I like that there are lots of "full figured" bras, clearly labeled. I just want equal treatment! I want to see the giant sign that says TITLESS. Then I could just waltz in and grab my little half-sizer and get the hell out.
Here's the problem, though, when you finally find the Titless bras, they're all padded to oblivion. Padded to full figured. Que? I just want a holster for my girls, you guys. I don't want a whole microfiber fake girls setup.
It was just really stressful. And the moral of the story is, I hate shopping when I need something. Shopping is only fun when you are bored and have some extra money and decide to pop in to see what's on sale. Shopping for something is pretty much the worst.
Ok, I am going to go watch Charlie Brown Christmas now.
Luv,
Bruce
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