Friday, October 27, 2006

It Makes Me Want Soup So Bad

Dinner and visiting with my little sister was terribly fun, and terribly expensive.

Not that the dinner itself was expensive.... we treated ourselves to some relatively affordable Indian buffet down on Rideau St. I stuffed myself so full of eggplant curry that I thought for sure I would have to be rolled out of there.

No, it was the pre-buffet activity that did me in. The part where we shopped for office clothes. The part where I bought three pairs of dress pants, a purple belt and a vest in one short hour. THAT part. In the end, I didn't really feel like I had much of a choice. Although I am, at heart, a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of girl, I have come to terms with the fact that I work in an office. A Nice Office. Where I should really not be wearing my jeans, sneakers, and t-shirts every day. Still, every morning, I opt for comfort over presentability. I have done this most of my life, and I would rather not stop. But eventually, being the office scrub kinda gets to you. I figured that if I invested in some good quality office clothes, instead of buying $4 "dress pants" at Value Village, I would feel more comfortable wearing nice things to work.

Enter the shopping spree.

I hate buying fancy clothes, mostly because I know I will rarely wear them. Thankfully, my sister loves shopping for upscale stuff, and I know I would have run out of the store screaming for mercy if she wasn't there to egg me on, telling me it would all be over soon. So, in essence, I blame her.

I introduce to you: Conversations With My Sister In A Fancy Dressing Room Setting.

Me, in the dressing room, shouting over the door: HEY!!! These fancypants don't fit. We can leave now.

Sister: What do you mean they don't fit? They're your size exactly. Come out, let's see.

Me. NO.

Sister: Stop being a baby. Come out, let's see what's wrong with them.

Me: They are too long. They are not made for short people. The are literally twice the length of my leg. (Shuffling out of the changeroom)

Sister: HAH. You weren't joking. They ARE literally twice the length of your leg. We can get those hemmed, you know. That's how it usually works. They really fit you quite well.

Me: I could buy six CDs for the price of these stupid pants.

Sister: You can't wear six CDs to your office. Well, you could, but you would be fired. Go try on the matching vest.

Me, shuffling back in: Do I LOOK like I'm three? Because that's the last time I wore a matching outfit.

Sister: Just try on the vest. The sales lady is here, she wants to see.

Sales Lady: How choo like zee vest, honee?

Me: My titties don't fit proper. This vest is for someone with boobs.

Sister: Just go find yourself some bigger boobs then.

Me: The smaller, the better, I say. It applies to almost everything.

Sales Lady: Not on a man, honee.


Although we tortured the sales lady with our twisted humour, she loved us in the end. Maybe because I spent so much freaking money in her store. Maybe because I kept saying SNAP. We'll never know.

In other news, my wisdom teeth are coming in. PAIN! SO MUCH PAIN! Even munching on my carroty snacks is ouching me. It makes me want soup so bad.

Tomorrow: Studio. Fingers crossed for musical goodness.

1 comment:

Leah SK said...

ahhhh, shopping. ahhhhhh, food. ahhhhh, andrea. good night. good night indeed.