Today is a day for sushi and shopping. SassyJen has a new man, a cowboy, in her life. I'm meeting her at Santana Row to hear her gush. I like gushing. I like love. I like girls in love. Fun. Shopping will follow. Since I am now devoid of credit cards and budgeted by dear Dave, shopping has become a whole new challenge. Lots more looking, lots less purchasing. Not like I have room in my closets for unnecessary objects anyway. Gail is joining us. I should go make myself presentable.
Yesterday was spent at Watsu for Clyde and in search of the perfect jeans. As I've mentioned, the jeans I currently wear are from tenth grade. I actually remember the day I bought them at Bloomingdale's of all places. I got them and a t-shirt with a glittery star in the center. I think I thought I was a porn star even at 15. The t-shirt is long gone. But the jeans have lasted. That's 25 years, people. I think the manufacturer of those jeans gets a prize.
I found the perfect jeans yesterday at Calvin Klein! I was shocked. Absolutely, shocked. Why? Because 25 years ago when Brooke Sheilds was telling everyone that nothing came between her and her Calvins, I wanted nothing more than a pair of those jeans. But my little pinky toe wouldn't even fit in them, much less my entire body. And they were WAY TOO LONG. Yesterday? They fit. Perfectly. Weird. Fit models have obviously changed to accommodate the new expanding girth of America. That's all I can figure. I bought two pairs. One that's even meant to be hip huggers. This is huge. I don't do hip huggers. But I couldn't deny that these jeans made me look good. Or maybe it was just their mirrors in their dressing rooms. It could be that you know. Oh well. I think they look good and that's all that matters.
Dave and I did absolutely nothing last night. Nothing. Well, I did nothing. I think he worked on his screenplay.
So isn't that all more than you ever cared to know? Totally boring, I know. But sometimes, life's just like that.
