Hurrah! We are not going to have reduced hours after all! At least, not for a couple of months. My boss read my journal (everyone at work reads my journal) and said zut alors, it is not true, we will do the waiting and the seeing. Only she didn't sound like Pepe LePew when she said it, but I'm punch-drunk from shopping at Macy's Huge Percentage Off Everything Sale this evening so I'm channeling Pepe. And I have two sale-related sources of extreme happiness contributing to my giddy state of mind.
Thing number one: I bought the cool shoes I thought about buying on Sunday but rejected because I was in Austerity Mode due to supposed imminent lack of mad money. Because I waited I was rewarded: they were twenty five percent off. I needed new black shoes with fearsome treads for New York because it snowed Monday. Can you believe that? Snow! It was all global warming and 60 degrees in January and February, i.e., the traditional winter months. Now that I'm coming to town? Ice age. So entirely unfair. But I have new shoes with big rubber grippy soles now. Cool shoes like what the kids these days wear, only not as. I mean, I can handle two inches of heel and sole, I can't handle four anymore.
So new shoes are thing number one. Thing number two: I bought a gorgeous pair of golden caramel colored pants to wear on the plane. Do you know what size they are? I will tell you what size they are. THEY ARE SIZE 14!
It's a mislabel, I believe, or a deliberate decision to undersize the clothing, but I am okay with that. They fit. Not loosely in the waist by any means, but everywhere else they fit quite nicely, and the waist isn't bad. Another five pounds and I won't notice the tightness at the waist when I sit down. Also, they were sixteen bucks so it was a heck of a deal even if I only wear them for six months. Mainly, though, I just marvel that they're a 14. I haven't worn that since 1995.
I know I've been saying I'm an 18 now, but that's because the 18s I have fit fine. Shopping for new clothes? Different story. I am a 16. Every single 18 I tried on was too big, every single 16 fit -- except for Ralph Lauren. That company doesn't know how to design for large women but they decided to get into the market anyway. I hate their clothing because all the armholes start at mid-breast instead of under the armpit. Come on, "Ralph," get a clue, we're overweight, not freaks with giant arms.
Anyway, it was a wholly unique experience for me to try on clothes and discover they were all too big. Do you know what this means? This means I can shop in a department store's regular clothing section without having to figure out what euphemism they've chose for fat women (they all have some cute name like Woman or Plus, and it's especially cruel that the large size clothing is inevitably installed next to the petites who have their own clothing issues). The caramel pants are an anomaly, I won't really be a 14 until I lose another ten to fifteen pounds but what a thrill it was to realize I have lost enough weight to avoid Lane Bryant. I still won't be able to find anything my size at a boutique or a designer shop, but hey, I'll get there. This is so utterly inspiring.
Meanwhile, my social plans have come together beautifully for my trip. I've managed to find meeting times and places that are convenient for everyone and will allow me to try some new bars and restaurants. I will spend quality time with everyone. The biggest number of people I'll see at any one gathering is six which is ideal. But the best part is I have built in a lot of alone time for myself and for me and John to see the city at our own pace. I may finally have the perfect New York trip.
Despite the crappy weather.
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