Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The search for the great 0 S

I’m talking about a pair of jeans. Last weekend, I crawled and labored looking for a pair of perfect jeans. Perfect for me meant- dark, stretch, sits low on the waist, and of course, short and size 0, and most importantly, within my budget. (I’m not the kind of girl who buys those pricey jeans which can feed a whole country for a day). I guess I am just an unfortunate shopper because I had to sweat and toil each time I shop for a pair. That is why, when I find a good pair of jeans, I don’t usually horse around. I wonder if fellow size 0s have trouble like me.

I actually went to a couple of stores which was frequented by teenagers. But, their jeans were made for tall, lanky teens with legs shooting up to the armpits. As I browsed through endless shelves of jeans, I was a strange weed in an oasis of teenyboppers in tank tops, hoodies, short shorts, fleece drawstring shorts and pants. I was thinking, oh God, I am an old prune trespasser. I had to make a quick getaway to save myself from further embarrassment.

At one point, I tried on one of those skinny jeans. But like super low-waist jeans, it’s just not for everybody. I swear I looked like a bowling pin, and my butt seemed like Titanic. Oh well, I have accepted a long time ago that not every uso is for me. My jeans had to be straight and, or boot cut, but never long and lean and skinny. At this day and age, of course.

Looking for size 0 and short pair of jeans was a major spin for me. A total headache most of the time. But unless I wanna expand and burst forth into two (or three) pant sizes, (which I have no plans of ever doing), or unless I grow really tall and my legs would stretch, then jean shopping would remain to be a massive pursuit for me and a major pain for my hubby. (He still cannot fathom why I HAD to shop for jeans for an entire afternoon – no breaks, to add). I kid that the only thing that matters for men in jean shopping is if their size is available.

Last Sunday, I found a pair that I liked – dark, stretch, sits low on the waist, slim through the leg and thigh, subtle boot cut opening, in my size and only one pair left. I tried it on, and it looked and fit right. But then I had wanted to see more, to scout out for other size 0s out there. I’m that kind of shopper, but only when it comes to jeans and shoes – I had to scour every item in every store before I make the ultimate decision. And so, I left the pair in a corner under the green jackets (a marker, sort of).

I went into an epic quest for that elusive pair of size 0s that look, feel and fit just perfectly. I dared to take another chance in another teenybopper store. But still, no luck. So I traced my steps back to the store that never seem to fail me. And there it was – my pair of jeans- waiting for me. Finally, I found my perfect pair. It was a happy day….

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Some days are good

Some days are good, some days are bad. And some, plain humdrum. On Sunday, we spent the whole day holed up at home, and I complained to the hubby how… quiet it was. Normally, I would prefer days at home muted and unperturbed. But yesterday was… just different. Traffic down below was hushed, and it felt like the whole world went away for a nap someplace. The hubby and I were catching up with some work while tuning alternately to 90s, 80s (and 70s!) music channels. But still the lull, was oddly dismal.

When I was a little girl, I could never comprehend why grown ups prefer to just sit down and talk, or just sit quietly for long periods of time. That was the time of inexhaustible energy – always running, stomping, cutting things, chomping away pretzels and stick bread. No time for talk, only for screaming. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t turned my back to conviviality. It’s just that as I grew older, I look at peace and quiet as a reward, and not as a punitive measure.

First thing Monday morning, I managed to irk (unintentionally) an officemate. Two officemates, actually. They were in my face by 8:30 a.m. I could have griped and fussed, too. But then again, those two people were the two most unlikable people at work. They were perfectionist, nitpicking and tart. They want everything to be perfect. And God forbid, should a minuscule detail be off, a hissy fit is sure to happen. I wasn’t interested anymore to grumble. It was obvious I do not belong in their perfect world. And I am not even welcome there! Oh, well. If the “perfect” world is populated by people like them, I’d rather splash around in my imperfect world. Some days… are just full of drama.

Some days which start bad, turn out good. That, would be a perfect day. After a lousy Monday, I got a very good news. So I survived. I love quiet days. And I love days full of surprises, too.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Legends of the Fall

Last Monday afternoon, I spent a scant two hours watching Legends of the Fall on TV. I’ve watched this movie many, many times, and yet I still spent ample time holding back my tears. It happens all the time. The movie, is one of my all-time favorites. I liked the pre-Brangelina Brad Pitt. I think I don’t like Brad now – for a very valid reason. I’m not sure why after all these years, I still feel like weeping and mourning over the story. Was I being a fool?

I liked the sadness and the harsh mood of the movie. Unrequited love, troubled soul, pain and sorrow… an absolute, powerful sad story. I’ll never get over it.

What is it with me and sad stories lately? I remember, last Monday I had cried three times in a single day. Can I blame it to sad movies, the searing hot weather or am I just mad at the world?