tobermory's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- oh happy day The vet visit this morning went well in general except that Wendy probably has a tooth lesion/cavity. She was also declared an official Kitty Lardass and if I even want to think about having a dental performed on her I need to get her down to 11# because at a smidge over 13# she�s an anesthesia risk. Riiiiiiiight. She lives for her food and is smart enough to watch Toby go off his jagonga over the laser pointer and then look at me as if to say, �Mmmm�kay. I know you�re wielding the red dot thing and it�s not worth my precious time. Call me when you bring out the lunchmeat.� She will deign to bat at a long fleece toy if you wave it over her but she won�t chase it � she just rolls onto her ample back and expects the toy to be brought to her. Fucking princess � I wonder where she learned that kind of behavior? Yet another weight-loss victory. I�m assuming anyone who might be reading this is familiar with the Target Go! Designer series. Back in late winter when they had the Proenza Schouler line, I purchased an ill-fated grey suede wristlet purse (I drunkenly used the purse to wipe off my vomit from the back of Weetabix�s car seat. I wisely disposed of the purse the next day � it would have never been the same) and two pairs of jeans � one regular denim and one grey denim. If you are familiar with these Target limited edition lines you know that they come only in junior sizing � sort of like the old 5-7-9 shops - and they are cut for either a youthful figure or an adult who has had hip-removal surgery, and you must also be someone who tops out at a size 13, their biggest available size (very size-ist of them if you ask me - Target should take a hint from Steve & Barry�s and go up to at least a size 22 because it�s not only skinny-ass bitches who like to be fashionable). I fell in love with the jeans because they are tapered like the jeans I fondly remember from the 80�s but not skin tight a la the jeans that seem to be popular with the current teen rocker set, they have plain back pockets devoid of bedazzling or stupid embroidery, and they are the perfect length for me to wear with ballet flats or skimmers. At 5�5�, it�s rare for me to find pants that I can wear without costly trips to the cleaners for alterations. So, I bought a pair of each in size 13. Without trying them on. I got them home and contorted myself into them and paraded in front of Steve while sucking everything in and not breathing. �How do they look?� He asked me to turn around. A deathly silence filled the kitchen. I said, �Apparently they make me look like an overstuffed bratwurst.� He concurred but in much more polite terms murmuring something about returning them for a larger size or another impossibility like that. But the optimist in me wouldn�t return them � I held onto them hoping that one day I�d find some willpower and they would fit. Last night I was scrounging through my pile of jeans to pick a pair to take up to Wisconsin and I came upon both pairs � tags still attached. I tried them on and lo and behold, they fit. Yay. I also bought a cute pair of shorts from the current Libertine collection in size 11 (the largest size left on the rack and again a leap of faith because I didn�t have time to try them on) and they fit too. Woot. Three cheers for Boot Camp whipping my ass into shape. Now I�ll have to wear these pants every day while I�m up there as a not-so gentle reminder to NOT EAT ALL THE FRIED CHEESE CURDS IN THE STATE. Breakfast: some sort of cereal with different grainy flakes, cinnamon-y granola clusters and almond slivers. I was planning on grabbing the bag containing the last of my Crispix but mistakenly grabbed this stuff instead. It�s OK, but I�d have rather had my Crispix and I imagine Steve is not so pleased with the Crispix that I left behind. We are a divided cereal family. 2:06 p.m. - 2007-08-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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