Who Needs Pockets?

Why does the fashion industry hate on women. I don’t know, but I’m down to one pair of decent shorts and two pairs of paint-stained cut-offs.  I’m only looking for a few pairs of shorts, maybe a new pair of jeans.

Do you want to know what I found at my friendly neighborhood department store? Do you? Too late, I’ll tell you what I found.

1. An assortment of pre-faded jeans. (I already have faded jeans, that’s why I’m shopping.)

2. An assortment of pre-faded and pre-ripped jeans. (I own faded and torn jeans. I faded and ripped them, myself. I also own faded, ripped jeans, and paint-stained jeans. This is going to be the next big thing. Mark my words.)

3. See #1 and #2 in Capris but all the pockets are fake.

4. I found actual Daisy Duke cut-off shorts. Why?

5. Also shorts that are even shorter than Daisy Dukes. These are, effectively, Bikini bottoms which are decorated to appear to be shorts. They have no pockets, either. Of course.

Why, Fashion people? Why do you hate on Women?

6. None of of these clothes are well-made. They’re designed to disintegrate in the wash in less than a year. The pockets, if present, are laugh-able but I don’t feel like laughing.

7. This is why I hate shopping. It may be why I have resting bitch face.

I pull out my phone to document why I will later be found building a fort out of jumbo toilet paper packs and pillows in the toy department. I find Legos soothing.

If if one person had told me right then, to “Smile” because I’d “be so pretty”, I’d be viral on YouTube right now. I swear.

Men don’t have to put up with this crap. Their clothes are well made and affordable. They get shorts that cover more than their booty, and they are permitted to wear out the knees and fade their own jeans. None of their pockets are fake. There would be an uprising.

It comes to me that this store has a men’s department and I know where it is.

I’m now the proud owner of two new pairs of well-made, affordable, booty-covering, not-yet-faded-or-worn-out, shorts with actual working pockets; one of which is a dedicated electronic device pocket.

I still have resting bitch face but my booty is comfy and I have pockets to hold my legos.

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Running Through the Night

Earlier tonight, the full moon reflecting off the river water in the park. A wild dash toward a rumored Vulpix. Two young men ask what we’re after as we rush past.

“Vulpix,” we pant, “Over by the Library.”

They join in the hunt.

“What team are you?” We gasp,

“Team After-The-Vulpix.” Was their perfect answer. “Go Team Vulpix!” We shouted and picked up speed, laughing.

Color is irrelevant when you run together through the night.

We are all, in the end, after the Vulpix. We are all running together, running through the night.

vulpix

Iron Mama

I’ve been stuck in the house most of the Winter and, like many, I’ve turned more and more often to a guilty pleasure. You know the one I mean. They call it Food Porn. Cooking Shows. They come with impossible standards, only attainable by professionals with lighting teams, makeup artists, and an army to do the prep work and washing up afterwards. I know it’s bad for me. I’m ashamed to admit but I tune in and lustfully admire the creative recipes, the beautifully-prepared ingredients, and the final artistically-crafted presentations. Continue reading “Iron Mama”

Hold it right there

My call is important, insists the cheerful hold lady. Friendly Customer Service Representatives are currently helping other customers, she chirps.  She then assures me that my call will be answered in the order in which it was received. After a pause, she helpfully adds that, Friendly Customer Service Representatives will be with me in 10 to 15 minutes. My call may be monitored for training purposes. Continue reading “Hold it right there”

Shopping Nightmare

I’m a hunt and kill shopper. I don’t wander or browse through stores poking around for whatever catches my eye. I arrive with a list of my targets; I’m in and out as fast as possible. It’s a surgical strike with no time to waste on distractions.  This time, I have just one item on my list: cross-training shoes– my old ones were worn down at  the heels and have thrown my back out once too often. Time for replacements. Continue reading “Shopping Nightmare”

Change of Plan

Winter Storm Jonas sounds like the East Coast is under threat from an angry Teen Boy Band. However, the satellite images look sobering. A massive deeply colored band of snow is poised to move across the region. Forecasts of snow accumulation begin to count 12 inches, then 24 inches, then 30 and more. Blizzard conditions are coming and the region prepares.

I should add that I’m watching these satellite images 900 miles from home, while drinking morning coffee in Orlando, Fl. We spend a few hours sending instructions to our farm sitter, and hope for the best. Continue reading “Change of Plan”

Always one Trouble-maker

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Jaq, keepin’ it real. Yo.

There’s always one trouble-maker. This one is mine.

Traditionally, we take down all of our holiday decorations before mid-night on New Year’s Eve. Because we party hard out here. It’s lucky, or good karma, or superstition. I do like the feeling of clearing away the remnants of the old year before the new one starts. Take out the trash, the recycling, do the laundry and leave behind everything we don’t need to bring forward.

Every, every year there’s one thing over-looked, left-over, and not found until too late. Continue reading “Always one Trouble-maker”

Dancing On the Line

There’s a line. There’s always a line. This particular, awkward, line is the one between daydreaming and over-thinking.

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Too often, I’m caught staring off into space, eyes unfocused mind focused deeply in some murky inner territory. This can happen while standing in line, or hanging around in one waiting room or another, or in conversation when something you’ve said triggers some intriguing image. Continue reading “Dancing On the Line”