Pantless

A couple weeks ago my friend and I went shopping at the outlet mall. I bought 3 pairs of pants, none of which were the right length. But, my friend convinced me that I am old enough to handle getting my pants hemmed and should purchase them anyway. So, here I am with 3 pairs of unwearable pants (they are sooo long.) I finally decided to expend some effort and get the stupid things up off the ground. My friend recommended that I take the pants to the stores that sell them at the mall to get them hemmed because then the hem will match that of the original manufacturer. The pants are trouser style jeans and a pair of cords, so I could see the value in having a matching hem. Plus she said it was pretty inexpensive, so why not. I head to the mall.

Go into J. Crew and the staff is great. There's only one chick in the store who knows how to pin pants for hemming, but we finally find her and we're on our way. I ask her whether I can also get a pair of jeans originally sold at Banana Republic hemmed. I figured that because I am paying to have them hemmed, it really shouldn't matter what kind of pants they are. Also I am lazy and didn't want to walk to Banana Republic. The saleslady thinks that would probably be fine but she'll have to check their policy. In the meantime she's happy to pin them for me anyway. Cool beans, I like J. Crew.

Get to the desk and it turns out that they cannot hem pants that aren't from their store. Fiiiiiine. I'll go to stupid Banana. She also tells me that the pants go out to their tailor on Thursday and return the following Thursday. It's going to be a red hot second to get these pants back...but that's fine.

I set off for the Banana Republic to get the stupid almost identical pair of jeans sewn by that company. Walk in and the people working there haven't a clue. They looked terrified that they'd have to pin the pants. I told them not to worry, they're already pinned, just hem them for me. The girl has me fill out a slip and then she goes to look at the tag. I assume to confirm that they're from Banana Republic.

Girl: "Oh. These are from the outlet."
Me: "Yes. The Banana Republic outlet."
Girl: "We don't do alterations on outlet clothes."
Me: "Why not?"
Girl: "The outlet is different. They have different stock and different clothes..."
Me: "Yes...they have the clothes you guys used to have in stock. I don't understand the problem."
Girl: "We don't alter outlet clothes because we're not the same store."
Me: "The pants are already pinned. I will give you money to have someone sew the pants. How is this a problem??"
Girl: "Umm....these are from the outlet....sooo....we can't alter them."
Me: "Oh my God that is so stupid. Okay fine thanks."

My favorite part is that she had already explained to me that the pants go out to their tailor on Thursday and return the following Thursday. I would lay down good money that J. Crew and Banana Republic use the same tailor. AUUUGHGH.

So I guess I'm going to have to fix the Banana pants myself. My Mom got halfway through explaining the hemming process to me before I finally stopped her and explained that I owned neither needle nor thread. So that might be step one. Or I could just pull out the super-glue.

**I bet this was the most boring "pantless" post you could ever have imagined. How disappointing.

Talkin' About My Generation

I'm at the grocery store waiting at the seafood counter. There is a well-dressed woman in her 40's yapping away on her cellphone behind me. All of a sudden an announcement comes over the PA system about some sale they're having.

Yappie McGee: "Could that announcement have been any FUCKING louder?! Jesus!"

I look back at her, wondering who she's talking to and thinking that Jesus probably doesn't appreciate that kind of language. Unless Chris Rock is using it...then he probably finds it hilarious like the rest of us.

The guy working the seafood counter comes up and takes my order. I ask him for salmon and to please remove the skin (because I am lazy.) The guy smiles, says sure, and starts to work. As he's procuring the fish and the instruments necessary for its denudement, he starts chatting with his coworkers. All of a sudden, I realize Yappie McGee has sidled up to me.

Yappie McGee: "Doesn't that just make you crazy?"
Me: "What?"
YM: "The fact that he's having a conversation while he's servicing you*."
Me: "No...he's getting my stuff...as long as I don't have to take the skin off that fish, I don't care what he does."
YM: "Hmph. Well...I guess that just shows the difference between the younger and older generations."

I'm thinking that the difference she's sensing is actually that of nice person vs. total bitch, but I'm ready to make a break for it. Seafood guy smiles, hands me my fish, and asks if I need anything else. I say no and walk away as quickly as possible to the sounds of:

Yappie McGee: "Why is that fish so white?"
Seafood Guy: "It's a whitefish. It's supposed to be white."

Poor Seafood Guy.


*I had to stifle a major giggle when she said this. hehehe servicing :-p

I Suck at Dy(e)ing

In honor of Easter and nostalgia for my childhood, I've decided to dye eggs this year. So, I went to the grocery store and purchased 2 dozen thinking that maybe Tom's younger siblings would want to come over and help. I bought the eggs I usually buy- vegetarian, cage-free. Because I have a conscience, but primarily because I don't want to die of mad-chicken disease (oh, it's coming people.)

Anybody else see the problem with this?Go ahead, think about it. I'll wait.


Need a hint?
They're brown. I bought 2 dozen BROWN eggs to dye. I'm officially a moron.

Dressing for the Summer

Wow. It's obvious that I totally forgot I had a blog because there is no way I would have left evidence of my Star Trek nerd-dom up that long if I'd remembered. Cripes. I haven't blogged in forever because a. as mentioned earlier, I forgot I had a blog. and b. there is not a thing going on in my life. I work, I sit around, I read. That's about it. We're going on a couple of trips this summer, so that's exciting. Such exotic destinations as Cincinnatti, Ohio and Rural, Alabama. Woo. :) Actually, Cincinnatti will be a blast, and Alabama...well, I'll see my friends for a portion of the trip so that'll be fun. And there's no way that hanging out with my sisters won't be a blast. Of course, poor Tom will have to be in the company of my father for a week, so the trip will probably suck for him. And it's Alabama in July, so 1000 degree weather might not help. But we have a pool! I just keep stressing the pool. :-p

So, with that amazing lack of things to post about, let's get back to why this place was really created: for me to complain about things in a forum other than face to face, because honestly, then I just come off as a big whiner. I seem like that here too, but I can pretend I don't know you guys. (Although about 100% of my readership is probably people that actually do know me.) Anyways- on with the show.

I went dress shopping the other day. I need something to wear to Ohio, and I was attending a graduation, and it was a blazing bajillion degrees out, so I thought- how about a nice summer dress. A sundress. Whatever they're called. Something where my legs could be caressed by the breeze rather than encapsulated in denim (as they usually are.) So, I first hit up Old Navy. Why? It's a great question, and one I asked myself several times as I moved among the 12 year old teens in headsets in search of a dress. What is up with those headsets? The store is not that big, and even if it were, I've never seen those headsets used for good. If I need a price check, invariably they yell at the closest tween who then proceeds to walk slowly in circles for ten minutes and come back without an answer. I really wonder if those things are even hooked up to anything. Hopefully they're not using them to look cool, cause Tom has one for playing XBox live, and I can tell you- those things are unequivocally uncool. Nerd-alert. Seriously.

So, I'm wandering around and I see NONE of the dresses that the girls in the commercial were wearing. Shocker, right? The only dress that is remotely what I'm looking for actually has a nice fit...but of course, it's only available in off-white and when I put the dress on I basically become a column with hair. Because such is my skin tone. So, on to the next store. I hit up Target because I can shop and simultaneously obtain the Reese's peanut butter cups I so desperately need at this point in a shopping day. Seriously, shopping feels like crossing a desert to me. It's miserable and hot (for some inexplicable reason) and my hair gets messed up. I hate it. So, I get to Target, find a couple of dresses with cute prints, and decide to bite the bullet and try them on.

Herein lies the problem: I'm pretty thin, and I'm pretty tall. And based on everything television has taught me, I should be able to go to the store and wear whatever I want because everything is made for girls my size. Un-true. All the clothes this summer are pulled straight from the 80's. Remember the 80's? Shoulder pads? Giant t-shirts w/ leggings underneath? Huge sweaters and acid-wash jeans? It's all back. Well, I haven't seen any shoulder pads, but the aesthetic is back. It's all form-masking. Which could work to the advantage of some, but for me, everything is adding 20 pounds. Also everything's really short, which I'm sure is some sort of evil bid to make me wear leggings. Not gonna happen.

The next day I went to the mall and encountered the same problems. I went into one store specifically because the mannequin was wearing a dress I would've purchased. This is my favorite way to shop- someone is already wearing all the pieces of the outfit, I just have to get a salesperson to round them up for me, and I'm out. So, I walk in the store, go to the teenybopper in a headset, and ask for the dress in the window. "Well...I've been standing in this area (points at three racks in a sea of hundreds) and I haven't seen it. So, I'd look over there. (Gestures toward remainder of the store.)" Did she ask someone in the headset? No. Did she make any effort to find the dress? Of course not. Needless to say, I was in there a grand total of 10 minutes before giving up and wandering toward the food court for iced coffee.

Every store has the exact same styles, fabrics (a lot of which are miserable as well...why is rayon back?), and God help me 80's music blaring in the background. Which leads me to wonder: am I going to be relegated to wearing the same outfits until late 90's-early 00's clothing returns? I hate the stores where nothing but Strawberry Shortcake t-shirts are being purchased by kids who aren't old enough to know who the hell Strawberry Shortcake is, but I also have a panic attack when I'm standing in Macy's pawing through a rack with 4 women who are older than my mother. I need a happy medium.

Nudism is a thing, right?

Observation

I'm in line at the grocery store in a non-express aisle. The woman in front of me is purchasing two bananas. Not two bunches of bananas. Two f-ing bananas. She ripped two bananas off their bunch and then stood in front of me in line.

And then she paid for them with a check.

This is the kind of day I'm having.

My Day Sucked, How Was Yours?

I am SO OVER the following entities:

1. My dermatologist
2. T-Mobile
3. Ikea

I had a dermatology appointment this morning. The appointment was made for 2 weeks after my original appointment as my doctor said she would be gone on vacation during the intervening week. Fine. 2 weeks later. I wake up far earlier than my norm in order to be presentable at 9 AM. Make it to the appointment early- cause that's how I roll, sign in and sit down. At this point, I can hear the receptionists loudly talking. Why can't I talk on my cell phone in the waiting room if the alternative is to listen to you harpies moaning about your kids?

Oh, and here's another quick question- if you're a receptionist maybe you can help me out. Why do you have those little glass windows around your area? To preserve the privacy of patients while you're gossiping about them? Okay, fine. HOW ABOUT CLOSING THE WINDOWS BEFORE YOU DO IT?? They're talking literally 2 feet away from me, full volume, do you think I can't hear you because I'm not facing you? Mistake folks. Anyway, they discussed the fact that my appointment had been made in error for a good 5 minutes before calling me over. My favorite part is that no one wanted to take the blame for making the error. "It was two weeks ago! Any of us could've made that appointment! Who didn't know the doctor would be on vacation?" Fascinatingly the woman making these observations was familiar. I'd met her two weeks ago when she'd made my appointment. I made sure to point this out to her. Jerkface. Had to reschedule for next week- you know, when the doctor's not tanning in Jamaica.

So, I wasted valuable time I could've spent sleeping by going to my non-existent appointment. But I had lots of other things to do and thought I'd just take advantage of the early start on the day. Yesterday my phone's SIM card started doing crazy things and by the end of the evening wasn't being recognized at all. So I called T-Mobile, did the IT walk-through which included restarting phone, removing and replacing batteries, and receiving a detailed weather report from the Texas-based technician. Total ditz. But whatever. In the end she figured out she couldn't help me and transferred me to someone who realized from the "SIM card registration failure" error message that perhaps I needed a new SIM card. He instructed me to head into a T-Mobile store today to receive a new SIM card for free. "Do I need a confirmation number or something so I don't have to go through all this again?" "No, it'll all be saved under your phone number." Awesome.

So, I have to sit in the T-Mobile parking lot for 30 minutes waiting for them to open since I'm there hella early (thanks again doc.) Finally get in, tell the guy the problem, he takes out the battery, puts it back in and magically it's working. I tell him that I've gotten it to work too, but that it doesn't last. It keeps breaking. He says that since it's working in front of him right now, he can't give me a new one. Awesome.

Guess I'll just go do my next errand while waiting for my SIM card to go up in a puff of smoke and stop by the store again on my way home. About halfway to my next destination, boom. Phone's out again. No SIM card, no service, no f-ing way I'm putting up with this any longer. I spot a T-Mobile store on the way to Ikea. Stop in. Wait in line for I kid you not 30 minutes. Behind some guy who smelled like a compost heap. I mean, I don't like showering right now when it's so freaking cold out either, but suck it up for the common good buddy. Finally make it to the front and of course I get some punk kid who looks like he just woke up with a hangover. Explain my problem, he says that my phone's gotten wet and will never work correctly again regardless of SIM situation. I say fine, my phone's a piece of crap anyway, what kind of deal can you give me on a new one?

Turns out that my father's name is primary on the account (because he started the account so I wouldn't have to put a $500 deposit down) therefore I cannot make any decisions for the account nor can I take advantage of any discounts offered to the account holder. "Even if I have the last 4 digits of his social?" "nope." "Even if I get him on the phone to talk to you?" "Ma'am, I don't care if you have your father's head in a basket. If he's not physically present, I can't give you the discount." Awesome. The guy decides that he'll give me a new SIM card, but he won't activate it. It's like giving someone a box of chocolate cake mix, the promise is there but it is pretty much worthless at this point in the day. (Although at that point I'm pretty sure I would've huffed powdered cake mix.) He hands me my phone back in pieces and tells me to have a nice day. At this point I've gone from wanting to throw my phone against a wall to wanting to shove it halfway down this kid's throat and watch his bloodshot eyes bug out of his head.

But I will carry-on because I am a bigger person. I take my cell phone chunks, stuff them in my purse and head to Ikea. I should've known this was a mistake. I should've known that when you're having a frustrating day, heading to a giant warehouse looking for things written in Nordic languages is a bad idea. Instead I head directly for the boxes cause I know exactly what I want and the only things I want. I don't want to shop. I want to buy two dining room chairs to bring my total to four. Because at this point when Tom's family comes over for dinner Saturday night half of them are going to be squatting on cushions on the floor, and that's probably not the best situation for people eating enchiladas.

I have a receipt for the last time I bought the chairs, I have the SKU number, color, style, everything. Head right for the place, and you can't differentiate the colors by the boxes. I take a look in two boxes that have already been opened. Neither are the right color. I spend 10 minutes wandering the cavernous isles looking for someone in an Ikea outfit. Either no one works here, or the Ikea uniform is suitable for covert ops.

I finally find some tiny little dude who takes me to the computer, shows me exactly what I'm looking for, and tells me where to find them. I tell him I've been there and they're the wrong color. He looks, agrees they're the wrong color, and suggests I go upstairs to the showroom and confirm they're still available. Why he can find it on the computer and not count that as confirmation is beyond me. But I am a nice person and I will persevere. I go upstairs, immediately find my chairs, confirm they are supposed to be in bin 21 or whatever and head back downstairs. He's gone. I find a new guy who does the same computer check, I once again say that YES THAT IS WHAT I WANT NOW FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE GET IT FOR ME and we head back to the chairs and just start opening boxes. Turns out that sometimes Ikea forgets to stain their chairs. They're labeled that they're stained, but they're really not. They're just not.

So I came home and incorrectly assembled one of the chairs, discovered the new SIM card doesn't work even when activated, and now I'm sitting on the couch drinking vodka in the afternoon. Because that's what today did to me.

Many Happy Returns

As some of you may know, I went to a wedding in Philadelphia a week ago (Congrats Anonymous's!) My preparation for the trip was pretty sparse. I knew I needed a dress to wear, but I really didn't have time to go buy one. I finally went the day before the wedding to the mall and found a dress that I *loved.* It was black with blue flowers..or maybe it was blue with black flowers, but whatever. I really liked it, it was on the clearance rack, score. The only downside was that they didn't have it in my size. They had it two sizes bigger...which isn't really great when you're talking strapless dresses on a girl with not a lot to hold it up. So, they had the same style dress in my size, but different colors. A black and white dress with a different pattern. And it fit, but it wasn't that blue that I loved. So, I called Tom for an opinion: dress that I love that doesn't fit but doesn't look terribly big, or dress that I don't really care that much about but fits really well. Because the mall is like 2 miles from my house and the dresses were both on clearance, we decided I would buy them both, he would help me decide, and I would return the one I didn't want later. Seemed reasonable enough.

That night, I try them both on, and it's decided that the one that fits is really much better looking and will be a lot more comfortable for me because I won't have to pull it up all night. So, black and white dress it is. I decide to wash the dress that night because I'm not a huge fan of traipsing around in a dress that 50 other girls have had cinched around their midsection. So, I follow the laundering instructions for the cotton dress. Should be a breeze. I pull it out of the washing machine, and it has changed colors. It has gone from black and white, to gray all over. I have no time to buy another dress, so black and blue it is.

In the end it worked out because I loved the black and blue dress, but it did drive me crazy all night trying to make sure it stayed up. Also, Tom's tie that I'd picked out ended up matching my dress perfectly (although I'd chosen it when I was wearing the black and white dress) so everyone got to tease us all night for matching. :p (Photo stolen from Jenn.) So, that was good times as well. Anyway, wore the unwashed black and blue dress, danced, had a good time. Fully intended to return both dresses when I got home, because who needs a dress they can't clean? And who needs a dress that's two sizes too big? Not me.

So, yesterday I go to Macy's with my two dresses...neither of which still have the tags attached. I walk to the counter with the sign clearly displaying "Dresses for return must have tags still attached." I explain to the girl behind the counter that with one washing, my dress had gone from black and white to dingey gruel. She was appropriately shocked and went to get her manager to help me with my returns. And here's where it gets interesting. I tell her the situation, and she tells me "You shouldn't have washed it." Um..if I shouldn't wash it, then the tag shouldn't say to wash it in cold water with like colors. I tell her so. "I know it says you can wash it, but I wouldn't have." Apparently she had an aversion to clean clothes. In the end, she let me return both dresses tag-free while explaining to me how dresses shouldn't be washed. And I explained to her how important it is for me to not come in contact with other people's deodorant. In the end, we both got what we wanted. I got to wear a dress for free, and she got me to leave.

Yesterday I went to Target and bought Reese's Peanut Butter Pumpkins which turned out to be melted and misshapen. I plan to eat them all and then return the empty packaging. I figure I'm on a roll, right? :-p