Friday, February 04, 2005
I've just spent the last four hours shopping for clothes and shoes.
I hate shopping with a blind, feiry passion.
For the record, a women's size 11 shoe is a men's size 9, so after spending three hours looking for a fucking decent pair of women's shoes that I wouldn't fall over in and repeatedly getting told that all of the attractive shoes you actually like aren't available in your size, go to Nordstrom Rack and get a cool pair of shoes much like the ones Yellow wears for a reasonable price... ("Y'know Yellow, you're real cute, but your shoes are fucking *hot*").
Finding a pair of khaki pants was just the sort of ordeal I assumed it would be, and I spent an inordinate amount of time in Eddie Bauer with some incredibly helpful sales people who did really seem abashed that they didn't carry the size and cut pants I wanted in a tall.
Also, that suede jacket you've been wanting to buy your whole life but couldn't justify the expense to get? Today's the day to get it. Not as butch as a leather jacket, but damn comfy. Someday, I'll have my own. For now, this will do nicely.
Picked up a new sports bra, new running shoes (it's been years), and a new traveling bag/sports bag... when confronted with two bags of differing sizes, the make-or-break decision was, "Will I be able to fit my boxing gloves and shoes in here?"
And yes, I did find a pair of khaki pants that fit reasonably well and were long enough, though they're too dressy for casual wear. Fine for work, but I mourn my Alaskan cargo pants. Someday, I will find them again.
I seem to be doing a great deal of searching for things I've lost.
After spending the last four hours feeling like a circus freak who can't seem to fit into any manufactured sizes, I'm going to go drink some beer and watch Carnivale.
Oh, shit. And do laundry. And pack for class tomorrow.
Never a dull moment.
Oh, good! State-run news agencies!
Right out of 1984!
How incredibly quaint. It's like living in Coldwar Russia.
Just wait, give Bush another year, and we'll be back to teaching 50s-style sex education and wearing -- oh, wait. Wait. No, we're just about there already.
Who stole my country? I want it back.
Why does it not surprise me that when Yellow was asked on this conference call what four people we needed to widdle down our pool of thirteen Dallas people to, that one of the four people (in addition to himself), that should go... was me.
He was overruled, but I think it's interesting.
So anyhow: I'm out for Dallas, but on for New York.
Yellow: Get your shit-kickers and your cowboy hat, we're going to Dallas.
Me: What the hell is this Dallas thing? Nobody said anything to me about it.
Yellow: You didn't get the e-mail from Mosh?
Me: Shit, no, nobody -- oh, shit, I didn't... oh
I didn't even bother opening up my work e-mail this morning. That's how little work I've actually been doing here in the office.
Open work e-mail...
Oh, shit. They've already made my hotel reservations. Dallas early next week, a meeting in New Jersey/New York at the end of the week... conference call this morning to see who's doing the New Jersey leg (oh, hell, just fly me out!).
This is the weirdest job. Sit on your ass for two weeks and then... GO!
1) There are weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.
2) Social Security will implode tomorrow, even if we don't steal all that money in order to pay off our war debts. Which we are NOT going to do.
3) The gays are not real Americans, and want to sodomize your children (though how or why the lesbians want to go about this, we're still unclear on)
4) Abortion isn't about controlling women, it's about protecting life, which is why we have such great childcare programs for welfare mothers
5) We are NOT, I repeat, NOT going to war with Iran.
Why is it I feel so cynical?