… who continues to try to get me to buy and wear shirts with V-necks and other things to show of the… girls. Bad Mom.
She also wants me to wear girl pants. Tight ones. I own the obligatory pair of tight pants. No more.
So we went to Old Navy today, because many of the girls I hang out with swear by it for pants that fit “real” people.
No offense to said ladies, but these are apparently women with more “normal” proportions. My legs are still larger than is proportional for my waist/butt, so what fits comfortably at the waist makes my legs feel like they’re locked in very, very small sheaths. Very much not my style. Room to breathe and room is move is a must. I enjoy frolicking.
… I also enjoy long walks in the rain, mocha frappés, giggling helplessly, and men with kind eyes.
Ahem, right. The shopping spree.
So rather than stick around and check out their men’s pants (in part because I just wanted to drive more), I just went back.to J.C. Penney’s and bought more of what I’d bought two days ago, plain, baggy comfortable jeans for $20. I did not let my mother talk me into short running shorts, any skirts (?!), or any scandalously revealing shirts. I even bucked authority by buying long (okay, -ish) running shorts and more of my plain men’s Fruit of the Loom t-shirts.
I’m running out of [decent] colors to buy in the FotL shirts, and I already own two of each of the colors I currently have, each in a different size (depending on my size when I bought them). I will not buy any shade of yellow. The last thing my ass needs is to be looking like a damn school bus out in public, okay? I can imagine kids’ taunts now. Some shades of green are no-no’s. Puke green and my shade of brown just don’t mix. White is a bad thing, as well, because the skies like to open up and pour down their fury just when I don such an article of clothing. Actually, I do own a white shirt of the FotL variety, but I won’t wear it unless I buy paints and turn it into a Thorn shirt (which would be awesome) or something to distract from the sheer whiteness of the shirt. Or until I completely run out of clothes and laundry quarters and decide that going to class topless, while undoubtedly entertaining in some manner for all involved, would probably be a bad idea in the long run. Then I may wear it. If I can’t find my pink Toyota shirt.
In other news, vague details about my physical this morning can be gotten here.
Karsh had me in stitches over this. Just a bit of linkage.
Yay for possibly picking up a
second third job this school year. Money is good, because books are high as hell. And wasn’t it the Barenaked Ladies who asked, “Who needs sleep?” Now I just need to try to get one of my research blocks moved to Saturday morning…