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Wormwood tea makes me feel feline
Aug. 30th, 2003 10:32 amDan has jungle boots! I want some! Must go to Army Surplus store and find equivalent to women's sizes 5.5 or 6...
Remember when I was ranting about petite sizes never really being petite? Witnessed it again Friday evening. Adam and I met his parents for dinner at a buffet restaurant. Then we stopped next door to Rugged Warehouse, which sells clothing that other retail stores don't want, due to some sort of problem, like a rip or a stain. Most of the time, these items are perfectly fine. And cheaper than hell. You know how Express sells shirts and stuff for thirty bucks a pop? Rugged sells Express shirts too--for nine bucks. Also sells Tommy Hilfiger, Donna Karan, etc etc. Granted, options are sorely limited, and occasionally merchandise is sold damaged, but this is a factory warehouse outlet type of store. No rips, no stains, I'll wear.
However, getting back to my point: I searched for pants to fit me. No luck. Not even a size one. Then I found a pair of jeans that read 24 inch waist. I propped them against me; the legs would work, the hips would fit--the low-rise waist would be a tad roomy, but who cares. However...the length. The legs seemed to end several inches past my toes. God damn these people. They wouldn't know a short woman if we bit them on the knee.
I bought the six dollar jeans anyway and Adam gladly cut and hemmed them for me. While he was at it, he hemmed that pair of size zero Express pants whose legs also engulfed my feet. Size zero! Short! Is that so hard for you stupid millionaires to comprehend?!
I'm so glad I have a boyfriend who knows domestics. Plumber, electrician, carpenter, you name it. Sewing, cooking, cleaning...and he's still a guy who can sit there and discuss wireeless network setups and Scottish clan kilts while hemming his girlfriend's pants (don't ask). Although neither of us are keen on parenting. Good thing too. I like getting more than three hours of sleep a night. And they're squirmy and messy and loud for at least a year. I love kids, trust me, I just don't want any until well after I'm married and settled.
Searching for other things to ramble about....um. Happy wedding Em and Jon! Yeah. Beca, I hear you're coming for a visit soon. Yay! Beth my love, we will see you at some point, I swear. Lucy and Dan, thanks for putting up with my incessant babbling knowledge concerning hair and skin care. I guess I really am making up for all those years when I refused to wear makeup or treat my hair right. So my mom should be very proud now. She is anyway.
Okay, I'm done. I'm gonna take a nap now.
Remember when I was ranting about petite sizes never really being petite? Witnessed it again Friday evening. Adam and I met his parents for dinner at a buffet restaurant. Then we stopped next door to Rugged Warehouse, which sells clothing that other retail stores don't want, due to some sort of problem, like a rip or a stain. Most of the time, these items are perfectly fine. And cheaper than hell. You know how Express sells shirts and stuff for thirty bucks a pop? Rugged sells Express shirts too--for nine bucks. Also sells Tommy Hilfiger, Donna Karan, etc etc. Granted, options are sorely limited, and occasionally merchandise is sold damaged, but this is a factory warehouse outlet type of store. No rips, no stains, I'll wear.
However, getting back to my point: I searched for pants to fit me. No luck. Not even a size one. Then I found a pair of jeans that read 24 inch waist. I propped them against me; the legs would work, the hips would fit--the low-rise waist would be a tad roomy, but who cares. However...the length. The legs seemed to end several inches past my toes. God damn these people. They wouldn't know a short woman if we bit them on the knee.
I bought the six dollar jeans anyway and Adam gladly cut and hemmed them for me. While he was at it, he hemmed that pair of size zero Express pants whose legs also engulfed my feet. Size zero! Short! Is that so hard for you stupid millionaires to comprehend?!
I'm so glad I have a boyfriend who knows domestics. Plumber, electrician, carpenter, you name it. Sewing, cooking, cleaning...and he's still a guy who can sit there and discuss wireeless network setups and Scottish clan kilts while hemming his girlfriend's pants (don't ask). Although neither of us are keen on parenting. Good thing too. I like getting more than three hours of sleep a night. And they're squirmy and messy and loud for at least a year. I love kids, trust me, I just don't want any until well after I'm married and settled.
Searching for other things to ramble about....um. Happy wedding Em and Jon! Yeah. Beca, I hear you're coming for a visit soon. Yay! Beth my love, we will see you at some point, I swear. Lucy and Dan, thanks for putting up with my incessant babbling knowledge concerning hair and skin care. I guess I really am making up for all those years when I refused to wear makeup or treat my hair right. So my mom should be very proud now. She is anyway.
Okay, I'm done. I'm gonna take a nap now.