soapboxdiner

New Duds and Old Studs

Eh. Same old bunch of just about nothing 'round these parts. Took the kid to IHOP for dinner and then to the mall for some summer clothes shopping. We each got two new outfits - him from Gap Kids (against my better, higher judgment and conscience) because supposedly they were having a 2-for sale: an outfit for $15. By the time I got to the register though, it came to $45. Eh. I figured whatever - I was in the mood to be too lazy to work up a good huff over it.

And in reality, I just wanted to cash in my "Real Woman" coupons from Lane Bryant - totalling $50. I figured I should be able to get one new outfit for that if I was sly enough. However, by the time I browsed through the plethora of size 14s and then through all the size 26s, I got a bit tired and cranky that they had nothing in between that say... someone of the median non-Twiggy/non-Farm animal variety might actually be able to fit. Very narrowly, I succeeded after three trips to the dressing room.

Then it was up to the register. "Here ya go! I'm a Real Woman and I have Coupons to Prove It!"

"I'm sorry ma'am. That promotion ended yesterday."

"But but... I've been siccckkkk. You wouldn't have wanted me to spread the contagion, would you?!? Is there nothing you can do for poor old me?"

"I'm sorry ma'am. Get the hell outa my face. I make $7.50/hr and quite frankly, I couldn't give two turds to your condition."

"Oh fine." Because I was feeling just lazy enough to let that prime example of "The Customer Isn't So Right Now, Is She?" slide.

But then they had me fill out the credit card app for 20% off, and then gave me the additional 10% discount for card holders too, so YAY! I have two cute new summer outfits for $85. Which kills me, because I'm a firm believer that your clothing should not cost more than what you can make in a day (or nearly, anyway). I'll probably get over that sooner or later - maybe on the day when I start earning more per day than what an outfit costs at Lane Bryant.

In other news... when did I get so fat? Man, I tell you - when I lower my chin to gaze upon the sveltness that is me, all I see are two perky mounds before me and some toes. Nowhere in that field of vision are there insolent wayward protrusions. Why then does that nasty mirror feel the need to destroy my internal image of hotness?

Bastard mirror.

In more other news... Did you hear the one about Canada's bill regarding making same-sex marriage legal? Canada rocks in my book. It's about time - and they think that if they do it first, the US will follow! Right. I see dubya lobbying for that one right.... now. You know, like as a platform issue for the republican nomination. He's a swell guy like that, after all. I'm sure he'll announce it right after his endorsements for the two ultra-right supreme court seats go through. Or maybe he'll do it right after he reverses affirmative action and Roe v. Wade. Really, there is only so much time in that man's day to do the right thing, right?

P.S. I've been a big mess of anger and frustration and distrust lately in the relationship arena. Teetering from "This is stupid. Why am I still here? I need to blow this off. This isn't what I want." and "Ahhhh. Isn't this wonderful? I feel the fuzzy goodness."

But I kind of realized today - neither of those are entirely accurate on their own. No, it will never be what I want (i.e. committed and devoted and blah dee blah blah sap crap) but conversely, why does everything have to be the extreme in perfection for me to deem it worthy of my time?

So I've decided to just relax and have a little fun. No caving. No worrying about if I'm good enough or perfect enough for someone who isn't my soul mate either and who most likely won't be around forever anyway.

Is that what the song means when it croons, If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with?

Something like that anyway.

P.S.S. Marcus thinks my sitch is HOTTT, and has now asked if I would like to perform some nasty nasty with him... you know, when he gets home from his dinner/movie date with the good girl he's super into. Because, he says, they're not a thang yet.

And beneath my libidic desires to dress the boy in crotchless chaps and ride the Yeee Haww! out his ass, I'm truly disgusted at his audacity and can actually picture myself doing a Lorena Bobbitt on His Fuckerhood.

Or perhaps I could just keep my mouth shut about my personal life. Yeah. There may be some merit to that.

Oh look. I started this with the firm impression it would sound like a laundry list. But lo, it actually came off mildly entertaining. I rock.

9:34 pm - 06.18.03
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