Dressing Room Dilemma

So has anyone else ever gotten stuck in a garment that you couldn't get off? I did the other day...and to make matters worse, I wasn't at home, or around anyone who could help me.

So there I was in a dressing room, trying to unzip a broken zipper, that I of course had no problem zipping up. I was pulling and jumping and starting to wonder if some security camera was getting any of this.

I was just about to go ask for help...but chickened out. How pathetic would that have been!? "Excuse me..." I have no idea what I would have said after that. Who would I have even approached? A fellow shopper? I did not want to walk all the way to the cashiers! And what could they do, cut me out of it like I was in the ER?

So anyway, the dress had this really tight waist line and it just wouldn't go up over my head...and at this point I was about ready to rip or chew myself out of the thing when I got it up over my chest...and then it was smooth sailing from there. By now it was all stretched out and looking like it had been through some real trauma, which saddened me because it was such a cute dress, but I was just happy to be free.

I guess this is why girls need to shop in groups, or at least pairs!

Manicure Madness

I don't usually get my nails done, and many might think an unemployed girl has better things to spend her money on...it's just that I was going to a wedding. And not just any wedding, but my very good friend from high school's wedding, which meant the whole affair was going to double as a class reunion, so I just had to get them done.

I wanted a french manicure and a pedicure. Understated elegance on the hands, party on the toes. I had to ask my sister where to go and she highly recommended a place across town. I should've known something was wrong when they didn't have my favorite OPI color, We'll Always Have Paris. So I backed out of the pedi and told the man to focus on the mani.

So he's going to town on my hands when he starts making small talk. I tell him that I'm and Interior Designer, unemployed, going to a wedding, bla bla bla. That's when he tells me that he is also recently unemployed. About two weeks ago him and his brother were manufacturing workers at a nearby factory. (He eyes his brother across the room.)

Excuse me? Are you kidding me? I just paid you to make my nails pretty and you're experience is factory work. I may be mistaken, but it just doesn't seem like factory workers have a reputation for having nicely manicured nails. WTF?

Deep breath. It doesn't help. The nails are not looking to good. I go back to chatting. I do that when I'm nervous.

Now we're onto interior design related topics. He tells me he did the entire design of the nail salon and asks me what I think. Gulp. Not feeling any more relaxed about this man working on my nails as I see what he is capable of with interiors. And I am a horrible liar. How am I suppose to answer? I comment on the lighting and the cool color palette. He informs me that he purchased everything on the Internet. I reply with my patent safe line, "That's something..."

He's finishing up and I just decide to cut my losses. He can't really fix what he's done without starting over. I get to my car and realize I have more nail polish on the skin surrounding my nails as I do on the nails! Oh well...never again.

Sacrifice in the Name of Fashion

So I visited my grandma yesterday. She is super cool of course...but doesn't quite grasp the idea that she is old. She is very independent and doesn't like help with anything, or from anything in this case.

Whenever I visit she likes to give me a tour of the place and show me all the things she's been working on around the house or garden...I started cracking up when we walked into her bedroom to admire some new bed sheets and I notice she's using a walker as a clothes rack! That's so her... and me.

Sacrifice yourself in the name of fashion...a rule I've always followed. "Who cares how it feels on, as long as you look good in it."...and in her case, "Who cares if I break a hip, my pants are wrinkle free."

New Phone

I must admit...when I first heard someone talking about a Droid I thought they were talking about some Star Wars character. Turns out there's this whole new android market niche in the cell phone industry!

This past weekend I got a new phone. The Samsung Moment. My brother, Daniel, who is 11, knows more about this phone than I do. (He has also installed 30+ apps that I am positive I will never need, including a Bic lighter?!?!)

Although I am still figuring it out, it's pretty cool. I can listen to music, watch You Tube, change my Facebook status, check my email, text like crazy, and so many other things I have never dreamed about doing with a phone!

So, I'm a bit behind the technology curve...but I just got a little closer.

Another Fire

It's freezing out. It's freezing inside too. I didn't think much of it, I woke up to a light dusting of snow outside, I thought it must just be cold. Then I decided to turn up the heat, only to realize the heat wasn't even on and my house was at 57 degrees. This explains why I kept feeling the need for more blankets last night.

I turned on the furnace and cranked up the thermostat to 67. Then I decided to get online and test my luck with a space heater aimed on my feet while I searched the Internet. It made a few strange noises but was producing heat so I just let it go. Then it made a noise like that of a spaceship landing and burst into flames. I instantly hit the "off" button but that seemed to have no effect. I decided my best attempt was to try and remove it from my house. (If it were going to implode I thought it could best do so outdoors.)

I picked it up and started to run...still plugged in. Oops. Unplugged it and started to run. It was definitely on fire. I started to blow on the fire as I ran for the exit. I got it outside set it down as the fire was becoming more evident and shooting flames from the vent below the handle. I sat it down and blew and blew and finally put out the fire. Relief.

This is the second time in 6 months that an electrical device I was using has caught fire. The first was my heated seat (as I sat on it) and now this. I think I should stay clear of them for awhile...

Calliou & Mr. Hinkle

Today, while watching PBS with a couple of preschool aged friends, I caught an episode of Calliou. I've included a summary of the episode I found online to bring you up to speed:

"Get Well Mr. Hinkle" Episode Summary (http://www.tv.com/caillou/all-around-the-block!/episode/212711/summary.html?tag=blackout#)

Caillou is in the living room, playing with Rexy, when the mail comes. He gets the mail from the mailman and then takes it to Daddy. He asks if there's anything for him, but Daddy says that there isn't. He does, however, point out a catalogue that was actually supposed to go to Mr. Hinkle. He asks Caillou to deliver it to Mr. Hinkle. Caillou gets into it and has Daddy dress him up as mailman. He and Daddy then take the catalogue to Mr. Hinkle, who shows him that he's already received a copy of that particular catalogue. So he lets Caillou keep it. Back at home, Caillou notes that Mr. Hinkle still had his pajamas on. Daddy thinks that maybe Mr. Hinkle wasn't feeling well. So Caillou and Daddy put together a get-well package for Mr. Hinkle, with a card and flowers in vase which Caillou paints himself. They take it all to Mr. Hinkle, who is happy to receive it. He notices that the card features a bluebird, which is appropriate because he just got a new birdhouse. He asks Caillou to come back tomorrow and he'll show it to him.

First of all, replace all the word "Daddy"with "Mommy" because that was what I saw in the episode, at least what I think I saw...but that is a moot point.

My real concern is the way they automatically insinuate Mr. Hinkle is ill just because he answered the door in pajamas. If he was really ill why would he have answered the door at all? I mean come on, is it illegal to answer the door in your PJ's? For crying out loud, maybe Mr. Hinkle is having a bad day, maybe he's suffering from depression, maybe he lost his job and doesn't have a reason to get dressed. Anyone ever think of that?

Just an unbiased observation.

Bones + Cellulite

The one good thing about stress is it makes me skinny. Not in that attractive sort of way. More like a bones + cellulite kind of way. I can see my ribs and pelvic bone, but in between are cottage cheese like curdles. It is a somewhat disgusting body I see in the mirror, but I'm hoping a little suntan will mask the imperfections. I keep telling myself that Spring is a good time to be stressed, as bikini season is just around the corner.

On an up side, I can also fit into this really tight pair of capris that have never really fit right. The only problem is they are now the only pair of jeans that fit right, and they are, as I said before, capris. It is still freezing here in Michigan and so I am only wearing them around the house with tall socks, which in itself is not right either.

Oh, and if the cottage cheese analogy didn't just make you vomit a little...it did me. I decided yesterday that I needed to start exercising again. I went for a little jog. I lived to write this, so maybe I will try it again sometime.

P.S. The skinny jeans I once despised of are no longer a problem...