Friday, January 15, 2010

I Wish I Knew

This morning started off rough; the kids couldn’t log onto K12 for school. I have no idea what the problem was but instead of getting to the bottom of it we just took the day off. What the heck; if you can’t take off a day when Grandma and Grandpa show up, why are you homeschooling?

Mom and Dad showed up mid-morning loaded down with coolers full of deliciousness and everything we needed to repair my garden fence and make a hidden gate. I’ve mentioned it before but there must always be an occupation. A mission. Which is totally fine because there’s no end to the projects required by this old house. She’s a vicious, vicious task master.

I snuck off to shop for a few hours because I was sort of in a bind. Last weekend I ordered something from Spiegel to wear to the dinner tomorrow night and it was just not showing up. I’d gone through my closet a few times and nothing made sense. My body just isn’t a size 4 right now. I wish it was. And it will be. Just not by tomorrow. So anyway, I left to find Something. I started at Macy’s and although it was a pleasant experience, I didn’t find anything I wanted to actually pay money for or, for that matter, be seen in. I was kind of bummed.

I tried a few more places and still, nothing. It didn’t help that I already had an idea in my head of what I was looking for. This is fine when a person has the time to locate a pattern and go custom. Not so much help at the last minute. Finally I headed to Ross.

I LOATHE Ross.

It’s not the merchandise; I’ve found plenty of things there I like. And the hunt for a good deal is fun. I admit it. What I hate so, so much is the way I feel when I’m there. Unlike Macy’s, where I was able to choose a few things and walk in and out of the dressing room with no more interaction than a smile from an associate, Ross makes you work for it. It begins when you walk in the door. There to greet you with a serious nod is a security guard. This isn’t Tiffany’s but clearly they’re ready for a heist. The next thing you notice, if you’re me, is how filthy the place is. And disorganized. The thing is, there are hidden treasures. I once saw a pair of 7 (for All Mankind) jeans there for well under half price. You just never know. So anyway, I stood in line for an opportunity to try on clothes then waited for the attendant to count the hangers to be sure I wasn’t stealing anything. Still I didn’t end up with anything useful.

I was so happy to see that stupid Spiegel package at my front door when I got home. I wasn’t happy to find that the Medium I ordered was Extra Medium. Maybe even XXM. I give up; I’m wearing it anyway. I wasn’t cut out for all this gussying up. If you look at those prom and homecoming pictures on Facebook you’ll see what I mean.

With all of that drama out of the way, I went to help my parents with the fence and gate. It involved posts and cement, Copper-Green (wood preservative) and boards, hammer and nails. Good fun. The only problem is I smell awful now. I didn’t notice at first because we were working outside but soon enough I knew the extent of the problem. Josh and I walked down the street to the bank for change for allowances and when I walked up to the teller she just looked at me.

“That smell is overwhelming.”

I had no idea she was talking about me. And then I smelled my jacket. As my hair swung across my face I caught a whiff from that too. Uh oh. I smelled caustic. And I can still smell it as I sit here, about to go out for the evening. What to do? Life Buoy? Febreze?
But who cares, right?

(Perhaps only the people sitting next to me at the movies tonight . . . )

Tonight we watched the world news with my parents. We’re not in the habit of watching the world news around here and it was an eye opener. I knew about the disaster in Haiti but seeing news coverage was different. Good grief I just want to give away all my stupid clothes and stuff and adopt a whole family. I mean literally. Just let them move right in. It breaks my heart. Just squeezes it to see people using sticks and shovels trying to get to family members. To see quantities of food and water sit undistributed on tarmacs. To hear Pat Robertson blame the people of Haiti. It just blows.

So anyway, I smell bad and I feel bad. What’s a person to do? I mean aside from prayer and sending money to the Red Cross. Really. I wish I knew.

1 comment:

  1. Hey, it could be worse. You could have done all that shopping (like I did), had your hair, nails, and make up done (like I did), bought new shoes (like I did), and have coaxed your husband into a tux (like I did) only to go to a dinner and be forced to sit through award presentations and a discussion on the cultural diversity in the Tri Cities only to find out that they had ONE buffet for over a hundred people and that you were not going to get dinner any time soon (like I did). I really hope your formal event tomorrow turns out a whole lot better than mine did tonight.

    ReplyDelete

So, what do you think?