Dec 3, 2006

"DO YOUR BEST AND DON'T WORRY"

Well, look who went and got herself a vagina.

Today, I shopped. Full-on, charge-it-will-you?, shopping. It all started because my favorite bra, the good bra, the expensive bra, for crying out loud, the ten-year-old bra sprung a hole under the boob. Then the elastic went. So, at that point, what do you have besides fabric and lace and knockers racing for your waist? Not a whole heck of a lot. So, with a good friend in tow to make shopping bearable, I went in search of another bra. A good bra. The best bra. And, the muthafucka was discontinued. Imagine! A lingerie company discontinuing an item after ten years!

So, I had to search a little harder. But, I found a really great one.

And, in the process, found out that quel surprise I've been wearing the wrong size all these years. Far out. (I always write these things and then remember my dad, my brother, and my rabbi read this blog from time to time. Eh well. They've all heard worse, I'm sure.)

Anyhow...

So, there I was. And I remembered I have had some big shit happen in the last year. Good shit. Great shit. And, I keep having reasons to doll up. So, I'm not much of a shopper. I hate shopping, in fact (more results-oriented than process-oriented). But, you know what? A woman has to do her thing and look sharp doing it. And, I had excellent, encouraging company. So, I, okay she, found five of the most fabulous, greatest-quality wardrobe staple pieces of clothing that fit me perfectly and made me look together and made an impromptu punk cover of the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme ring in my head. And, bonsai! I bought them.

As much as I get a kick out of cashing in on a great bargain, there is also something really satisfying about knowing you deserve to hook yourself up with something nice and going for it once in a while.

(That said, oy vey. Master Card should write me a love letter after today.)

Back to editing a little, though my mind is starting to wander a little. I must be tired. What do I have tomorrow? Oh, right, more editing, a little writing and a lot of organization. I'll take it. Every bit of it.

4 comments:

Vicki said...

I do apoligize for you getting my "I hate to shop gene". I just don't get that whole " I feel bad, I need to go shopping" thing. Is there something wrong with us? Then again, I can completely lose myself in a bookstore for hours on end. Hum....Intellect over clothes. Sounds okay to me!
Happy you found some great stuff and had a good time too!
Love
Mom

Anonymous said...

I made an entry on your blog yesterday and when I checked later and found it wasn’t there, I submitted another. Looking at both of them now, I kinda feel like Moses. No faith at all. Does this mean I, too, will spend forty years in the desert? Well, I’ve always said milk and honey are overrated.

I noticed your mom reads your blog. Good for her. Good for you. My first novel was published this year and one of the first copies went to my folks. Well, maybe it was the thirtieth but who’s counting. Anyway, I gave them a few weeks to read it before I asked them what they thought. Both my mother and father were upset. “You told everyone our secrets.” She had said. And you guessed it, they didn’t read any further.

The book is about the affects yoga can have on a person and I’d like to offer you a copy. Let’s say it’s payment for your wonderful blog. I wrote you an email yesterday. Please contact me through that address and I’ll send you a copy.

Oh, yeah, great job on the bra.

Peace,

Al Sensu said...

I'd be happy to help you select the right size bra next time. My hands are calibrated to perfectly measure for cup size.

But if in the meantime you have found the right one, buy two and put one in storage. Bring it out in ten years and hope you haven't gained/lost weight in that time.

Nicky said...

I also, as you probably know, hate to shop. Wait - I hate to shop for myself. I like tagging along with someone else for company. Then there's no pressure on me to have to think about clothes (bleh). The only way I ever end up shopping for myself is if I have a galpal (as the tabs say) with me who loves to shop - usually my sister or my sister in law - and they push me into a dressing room and then start throwing likely candidates over the door. That's like once a year that I can manage that.