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A sleep deprived coffee haze

Monday, May 1st, 2006

It’s getting close to my last mid term the one I really really, really have to actually do well on. I did not sleep last night. I did not sleep today. I didn’t go to class, either. Oops. Went into town, to get my papers all notaried, and stuff.

note- it’s not a notary here, it’s a justice of the peace. You know, like the elvis at a vegas wedding.

Back on topic. I was down town. I was drinking coffee. I was having bad ideas.

Bad ideas like “hey, j. Let’s hunt for the mythical pants that fit!”

Yeah. Bad idea. Oddly enough, no pants in all of this stinking town fit. Well, I’m sure some of them could, but I want them long. Like, perfect long. Not an inch too short, and 120$, and not pre-washed, so guarenteed to shrink the second I get them home.

so, rant-

Why, in the name of bob, do the freaking fashion people show clothes on people that look like me (only a bit thinner), but not actually *sell* clothes for people that look like me? I am not a mythical creature! I am a girl in desperate want of a pair of freaking black pants! And a long sleave shirt with sleaves that cover my wrists, but I’ve given up on that one.

Is it so very much to ask? I realise that most of the country here is short. Like, really short. Like crazy short. They can’t help that. But would it be so very much to ask that each store (designer ones included- you’d think that, selling the samples as some were, the pants would be longer- nope) carry one pair of black pants, size ten, really freaking long?

This is an important point. Thin people (or so I assume, from shopping) only grow short. Tall people are all heavier than me. I am, therefore, some kinda freak. Me and everyone else that has this problem. Such as short people of average size.

end rant

gotta say, tho- I do love how the sizes here seem to be the same from store to store.

Coffee bad. But there are plenty of places to shop in Palmy, assuming you like the clothes they sell. There are even like three stores selling shoes. Ok, me sleep now. Then wake up. Then not drink coffee. Then drink soda. With Jack. Then go to lab. Yeah, that sounds good. Tomorrows gonna be an interesting day.

Oh, and for those interested out there- a pair of dickies, just plain ones (available in 30, 32, 34, 36 waist, and 32 length only) will run you about 110$ here. Don’t ask about shoes. Just bring them.

j.

Shopping

Tuesday, April 11th, 2006

Sooner or later, it happens. I don’t care how careful you are, how much you love what you brought. Eventually, you realise that not bringing that (little black skirt/ pair of shorts/ warm jacket/ whatever) is driving you crazy, and that you really do *need* it. Well, as much as you need anything extra.

I hit this point this week, and headed off to do my least favorite activity ever (well, other than work).

I went shopping.

Last time I went shopping for clothes (excluding buying warm tops for winter/ africa) was at a thrift shop, a great one, where I got a really great black A-line skirt. It cost me 4 dollars. It was in a single didgit size.

Yesterday, I got sick of not having it with me, and wearing jeans every single day, so I went into town.

Now- there is this great “weight-loss” shopping experience known as going from just about anywhere to the US to shop- you drop two or three sizes in the time it takes to fly there. This works in reverse, when you leave the states.

So I went shopping. Not a clue about my size, because I didn’t know what plan they work off of- the shoes fit in US sizes, but what about skirts and pants (which I am not even going to try to find- ugh, hate shopping for pants)?

Simple- they seem to use UK sizing. So the lady grabbed me a couple size 12’s. Guess a US six with hips (sort of) translates to her into a 12? dunno. So tried them on, and… well, 12 wasn’t going to work. It sat about where my fally-down jeans do, and did the fally-down thing, too. so I wasn’t a 12. Tried a 10 (in every black skirt in the store) and that fit. Like, sat comfy on the hips, didn’t grab, was maybe a bit loose, but I’d rather loose than bindy, and did the “just at the knees” thing. Almost got a straight skirt too, but I only really need one right now. Even though it did look cute, it was maybe a bit too businessy for me.

So- what has this got to do with travel? Come on, I know all of you buy something when you travel. I sometimes think I should be a food and clothes traveller, wealthy beyond imagining, travelling from place to place, just to shop for clothes. See, I hate shopping (nothing ever fits- damn my long legs and arms) but love clothes. And how they make you look, and all that stuff. Plus, it’s like a really neat suveneer (bad spelling, I know), something you’ll actually use (one would hope) and great for chicks, since you pretty much *know* no one is showing up in what you have.

Wow, I sound all girly when I talk about stuff like this. You people who actually know me can stop rolling and laughing, and cackling, and howling at the thought of me being girly. It happens, ok?

Which brings me to- sales associates mini-rant. I go in looking for black skirts, wearing a black shirt, torn jeans, and my keys on a big chain. Yeah, sure I’m wearing pastel running shoes too, but… I didn’t think black dye would take. I obviously like black (early childhood clothing influenced by NYC), and have got reddish (need to re-color) hair, and pale skin. Why, oh why must they always try to sell me colored tops? Do I look like I want to be an interesting shade of green? I realise she was trying to help, but trying to sell the tall, pale, now-reddish-headed one colored long sleeve tops is a pretty good way to get me to forget what I wanted to buy, and run screaming from the shop. I’m sure if I were still the super tan near platinum blonde of my childhood, I would be all about the colored shirts. And if I didn’t have freaky long arms, I would love to buy long sleeved shirts. But I’m not. I can reasonably wear three colors, in about two shades each, and all my “long” sleaved shirts end up with the arms pushed up. Why? I hate having that 2 inch gap between the end of the sleeve and my bony ass wrists.

And for those of you interested, my NZ 10 is soemwhere between a 4 and a 6 at the GAP in the states- well, as of last april’s sizes. And NZ is the land of the skirt.
j.