It’s been an exhausting and stressful week trying to multitask between four major work projects – each needing my concentration and attention before either of the others.  After repeatedly hitting brick walls and each project defying not only my logic but the wide and extremely reliable experience and logic of my legitimately genius tech-geek husband, I gave up and yelled, “I am not a computer programmer, goddammit!” and took our daughter shopping.

Jan has a staff Christmas party tomorrow and needed a last minute outfit for it, and I’ve been on a kick for, oh, about a year now, of actively trying (but failing) to create an actual wardrobe for myself, rather than my usual hodge-podge of rapidly deteriorating bargain finds. Jan and I enjoy going clothes shopping together, far more than when we go with anyone else, so I thought it would be a welcome break.

I should have just stuck with the obstinate computer – it’s not nearly as demoralizing.

In my recent post about Pet Peeves, I can’t believe that I forgot to list CLOTHING MANUFACTURERS!!!

Aaargh!!! I’m still waiting for someone to explain to me what demon from hell brainwashed middle class retail companies into believing that the only people who buy clothes are stick-figure midgets or “plus size women”. It’s almost impossible to find anything off-the-rack that’s built to fit average-sized women with average curves! I can find things that fit me like a tent and make me look pregnant, or I can find things that 20 year olds (who clearly have a different idea of “cleavage” than I do) would wear only if they want to avoid student loans and never buy their own drinks.

And good gawd – enough with the sequins, already!

I have hips.
I have a waist.
I have boobs.
I have arms, legs, and a torso longer than a 12 year old’s.
I have a modicum of class and morals.

Apparently I’m a freak who shouldn’t be seen out in public.