An Intimate Conversation

Today I braved the Intimates department at Kohl's, during a sale. My loving family had purchased a gift certificate for me for Mother's Day. Hubby explained later that it was for replacement of "grandma" bras only. Confession time: yes, the bras were definitely "grandma" as I hate shopping for them and put it off as long as humanly possible. I've been known to rip out a piece of underwire in a bathroom stall due to puncture torture (way more effective than waterboarding by the way), only to wear said bra in the future... for an undetermined length of time. I'm ashamed to admit it. Victoria's Secret is a long ago faded memory. Now it's more like Victor Victoria, well, maybe not all that bad. Okay, yes, yes it is.

So, with a swallowing of pride I forged ahead. I searched and searched for fit, for comfort, for sexy, for utilitarian, support, separate and supported, and everything in between. After submitting to the almighty dressing room mirror of horrors, I made a startling discovery. Now, you must remember that I had lost one size last summer after hours and hours of slave-like labor in the garden, and apparently part of that weight was in cup size. I'm okay with that. I can live with a one cup size reduction. It's not that. It's the fact that it emphasizes all my boobs have gone through. Breastfeeding has turned that which was previously perky to small grapefruit in pantyhose likeness. And one hard to please child, who shall remain nameless, played favorites leaving me permanently lopsided, not by a lot, but enough that the mirror of horrors saw it, in plain sight. Anyone know of a store that sells separate cup sizes in one bra? It was depressing!

Nearly as depressing as the fact that every cute design, sexy or desirable style stopped short one size before my size. Seriously, people the full figured would like to appear somewhat more attractive than an old Sears catalog model. Sexy was out... utilitarian was in. I had no choice but to resign to the fact.

Trying to lift my spirits, I ventured over to the Clearance sale items. I needed pants for work. After waiting, actually waiting in line for a dressing room, I tried on a million pants. Again, I was subjecting myself to the mirror of horrors and once again it revealed an ugly little secret. All the pants were too long. I have shrunk! Literally shrunk! I made myself try on a petite pair just for verification... it fit. Damn, I've shrunk. What the hell?

I am a lopsided, deflated, short and now depressed woman. And, my hubby wonders why I hate shopping.

Groceries

I'm posting because I'm procrastinating. Procrastinating making a grocery list, procrastinating balancing the checkbook to figure out how much money I don't have to spend at the grocery store. I was doing good for awhile. I had purchased a freezer full of bargains and enough bulk pancake mix and syrup to really last. I was on top of it. Then, the remodel happened. So, basically, I've used up just about everything. And this time when the kids whine, "there's nothing to eat" they're right. I'm afraid, very afraid, of just how high this particular bill could get. It's not easy feeding three teenagers. They're like hobbits. First breakfast, second breakfast, first lunch, second lunch etc.... you get my drift.

Since groceries have gone up so much, I've really been trying to shop only bulk or sale items. This is not my favorite activity. I'm not a bargain shopper by nature. Mostly, I just buy something because I'm already in the store and don't want to have to come back later. I figure time is money, right? Fortunately for me, my two closest girlfriends are VERY thrifty. They are my opposite when it comes to money. Like the time we were on vacation and I was forced to park a million miles away from the entrance into Silver Dollar City so that we could park for free. I'm like, "it's only $20 to park up close!" I hate to admit it, but I was glad when I left the park and still had some money in my pocket. That $20 made a difference. ( I admitted it already, don't expect me to say it again.)

So, here I go... off to peruse the ads for this week. Off to make a list and check it twice. Off to balance the dreaded check book. Wine is definitely making the list!

What's up with Walmart?

I was just barely recovering from my turkey hangover when I switched on the news and learned about the trampling at Walmart. I couldn't believe that in the name of Christmas shopping an employee was actually trampled to death! Look people we have to talk. When buying little Sally's Christmas present 30% off takes precedent over the man that is lying down on the ground having a heart attack then we have a problem. "Merry Christmas Sally, only one person lost his life in the defense of your perfect Christmas morning. I know you won't even remember what Santa brought you next year, but Mommy was willing to have literal blood on her hands just for you."
Clearly, some of the blame must be laid at Walmart's feet as well. Afterall, this is the same institution that has sucked at crowd control for years. Who else has thirty million check out lines but only three actual checkers? I know, I know there is the self check out line... but in defense of someone's job (obviously much more dangerous than previously thought) I have stubbornly stood in the lengthy line to be checked out by an actual person on many occasions. And God forbid that you are a smoker because there is only one line for you. Hope you had a smoke before you came in because you aren't getting through this one until late next week.
Out of the illustrious three checkers to choose from I always get the chatty one. It never fails that they feel compelled to comment on each and every item. Now, I'm not talking about just a few items here. If I have to go to this wretched place, then I'm buying everything in sight to keep from coming back for as long as humanly possible. "Ooooh, lavender lotion. Did you see the other one? It's on sale." Obviously not and exchanging it would be a near impossibility as it is about an acre away on the complete opposite end of the store! "Overnight Maxi pads... do these really work?" Now, I'm just ignoring the comments and praying to God for the extra ounce of patience I need to remember that this person too is someone He loves. Come to think of it... along with the husband and three kiddos Walmart is probably responsible for a considerable amount of gray hairs on my head!