tiaras optional

"My only argument is with those who do not view the world as cynically as I do." Michael Korda

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Notes on a New Job

1. Starting a new job means all sorts of adult things like signing up for life insurance. I felt very much like a husband in the 1950s as I filled out the form. If anything happens to me, will Lord Kissington being able to maintain the lifestyle to which he’s been accustomed? How much extra insurance do I need? Grave matters.

2. Traveling to a different part of town for work means that I get to see a whole new set of fashion disasters every day. To the young woman, I saw the other morning, I don’t even know where to begin with what’s wrong with your outfit. Let me just sum it up by saying, if it’s still warm enough for flip-flops, it’s much too warm for tweed pants. I’m going to try to ignore the fact that the tweed pants appeared to be in knicker* form. And to all the women I’ve been seeing whose pants are creeping up into their butt cracks, for the love of God, please reconsider your undergarment. Or consider buying pants that fits. It’s for the greater good of humanity.

3. I have now figured out the layout of my new building well enough that I am no longer walking into walls or finding myself inexplicably in the garage. I still can’t really do much except make it from the entrance to my department. If I’m ever called upon to visit another department, I might be wandering for hours.

*Knickers pain me. My hero Galliano could make the fabulous pair of knickers ever and I would still turn my nose up at them, simply by virtue of the fact that they’re knickers. Shudder.

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Thursday, September 13, 2007

A Few Notes

Posting has been sporadic because of the stress of leaving the old job and the anxiety of starting the new one. Of course, posting has been sporadic for months now, so I suppose this is nothing new.

1. I’ve always known that I have a big head, and not only in the figurative sense. One size fits all hats never fit me. But my head seems to have reached all new levels of biggitude. I tried on a blouse that wouldn’t even fit over my head. I kept looking for some sort of hook or clasp, but there was nothing. And the neckline wasn’t elastic. Who makes a blouse that you can’t fit over your head? Or am I just deformed?

2. The new job is going well, except for a few minor problems like walking into walls and ending up in the garage instead of outside. Apparently, I am directionally challenged. I’m making an impressive debut.

3. Things are going well, except for the other morning when I woke up at 5 a.m. with the most severe calf cramp I’ve ever had. It was so bad, I actually screamed. I guess I was pretty loud since I woke up Lord Kissington, a man who sleeps so heavily I’ve always figured he would sleep through an apocalypse. The cramp passed, but I’m wondering if it has something to do with switching between flats and really high heels so much lately.

4. Bringing a book to work is problematic to read during lunch is problematic. I really want to read this book about a teenager who’s in love with a vampire, but that probably isn’t the image I want to project quite so early in my tenure. Instead, I’ve been carrying the Letters of Heloise and Abelard, a book I’ve been reading the introduction to for approximately 6 months. Maybe I’ll actually make it to the letters this time.

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Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Size Me Up

In preparation for a new job and a new season, I’ve been shopping more than usual lately. And it’s been a bewildering experience because sizes no longer make sense. I’m realistic about my body. Even with my recent 7 pound weight loss (thanks, stomach flu!), I’m a size 8 in pants or jeans thanks to my cursed thighs (the weight loss coming mostly from my waist and, sadly, the breasts). In skirts and dresses, I’m generally a 6. Tops vary a bit more. Depending on the shape and cut, I’m a small or medium or a 4 or 6.

But my recent shopping excursions have left me very confused as to my size. I spent a half hour dithering over a white shirt that was just a hair too big in a small but didn’t work at all in an extra-small. Could it be tailored? Was it even worth bothering? I cursed a series of skirts that fit either my hips or my waist, but never both.

And then there were the visits to Anthropologie. I’ve always found their sizing to be a bit inconsistent, so I’m nervous ordering anything online and prefer to try things on in person. My recent forays yielded the following purchases: a size small top, two size-6 dresses, and one size-4 dress. A little all over the place, but not too crazy. But then there were the rejected items. The size-medium top that was falling off me. The size-small top that I couldn’t get over my shoulders (I really think that was the odd design of the top and not any odd deformity to my shoulders. I mean, they look normal enough to me.). The size-8 dress that looked dreadful. The size-6 skirt that was falling off me. I had to go down to a 2 in that one (I ended up passing on it for the moment). Size 2 to size 8 is a pretty big size range. You can see why I’m a little wary of ordering anything online. Maybe I’ll just go back to shoe shopping, where I’m pretty much always a size 8. Ahh, predictability.

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Saturday, September 01, 2007

Dreaming My Dreams of…

I’m starting a new job soon, and I’ve been so busy finishing up at my current job that I haven’t had much time to think (or worry) about the new job. My subconscious, however, seems to be working overtime. The other night I dreamed that I went to my first day at the new job. They didn’t have an office or even a desk for me. It looked totally different from the office where I had interviewed. A bunch of people sat me down on a couch in the lobby and threw a pile of papers at me, telling me this was my first project. Then everyone disappeared.

I started going through the papers and realized: 1) I was working for a Republican member of Congress, 2) said member had just been arrested for soliciting sex in a public bathroom, and 3) my job was to do damage control. I woke up with my heart thumping in my chest. I guess the good news is that my new job can’t possibly be that bad.

Last night I dreamed about characters on a TV show I’ve never watched. The Hills is on cable, so I’ve never seen it. I’m aware of it because it’s covered in exhaustive detail on every gossip web site I visit. And US Weekly has a story on these people every week. Although I don’t read the articles, I’ve absorbed some details by osmosis. The show seems to be centered around a bland young woman with very cute clothes. I was vaguely aware of her from having watched a few episodes of Laguna Beach at the gym. Apparently, she’s the one who was always fighting with the bitchy blonde over some guy, who I think (I’m too lazy and of the not caring to actually look this up) is the guy who played the skateboarding virgin on One Tree Hill*. My cursory glances at the US Weekly articles suggest that the main conflict of the show is between the bland one and her equally bland ex-BFF and the ex-BFF’s douchebag boyfriend. Feel free to correct me if I’ve got anything wrong here.

In any case, in my dream, I was at a country club, and I was walking to the parking lot when suddenly there was some big commotion, and it turned out that the bland one had gotten into some kind of fender-bender with the ex-BFF and the douchebag, and everyone was screaming and the paparazzi were busy circling. Then I woke up and felt totally disgusted with myself. I really need to have a talk with my subconscious.

*I really love that the teen abstinence storyline on One Tree Hill was so un-family values and made the virgins look like colossal idiots. They all wore t-shirts that said “Virgins for Life,” which makes no sense because I thought the whole point of teen abstinence movements was to encourage not having sex until marriage and not not having sex, ummh, ever. Also, the founder of the club turned out to be an emotionally unstable non-virgin who broke poor Mouth’s heart. With all illusions shattered, the sweet skateboarding virgin was soon losing it to slutty Brooke in the back seat of a car at a party. Not that I watch One Tree Hill or anything. I just picked all this up from flipping through the channels one night. I swear.

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