yesterday i woke up, did a time-check on my cell phone and then gaped at myself in that complicated mix of "impressed" and "horror" -- a look last seen when i polished off a havarti and a gouda in a single sitting: 2 p.m. nice. 11 hours of good old fashioned wine-fused Z's. my favorite.
i've had an overpriced american eagle sweater stuck in my craw for three weeks. i frequently stop by to visit it, make sure it still costs more than my cell phone bill, then quietly back away from the demon sweater. but if i spend three weeks thinking about something, it no longer constitutes an impulse buy. so we went to the mall to make sure it was still out of my league.
it was. blasted thigh-length yarn contraption.
american eagle's sale is this: buy one sweater or something with a hood, get another sweater or something with a hood for half off. this still struck me as retail sodomy. i searched the rest of the mall for the equivalent, but came up short. took a deep breath, walked in. tried it on. hoped i'd look like 200 pounds of menopause wrapped in cheap fabric. but, no, of course not. it was adorable.
i reluctantly handed the smug american eagle flip-flops-in-winter cashier my debit card, and left the store despondent. but despondent with two new overpriced sweaters.
I HATE GOING HEAD TO HEAD WITH AMERICAN EAGLE AND LOSING. inferior victor.
we went to the grocery store and it was teeming with samples. i had pretzel chips, pita chips [with three return trips to the bowl] and a chunk of chocolate chip cookie. i eyed a plate of chicken, and decided i was too young to taste botulism.
on my second trip past, i decided what the hell and toothpicked myself up a few slivers of meat. despite the heat lamp, it was cold and reminded me of what a finger would taste like if that finger was peeled with a potato peeler.
we came home and watched a few episodes of my new favorite show: ghost adventures. see my complete essay on its pretty-boy, blair witch projectian, nippleicious star zak bagans in an upcoming weakly review.