Navigating

So today I had to go downtown to get my hair done. I usually go for the first appointment of the day, so I head downtown to get breakfast at what a friend calls the hippie diner. Well, today was the early St. Patrick's Day Parade that runs down the street my hairdresser is on. I had hoped they would cancel it since it was raining.

Yes, I can hear you all now: "Yankee Librarian, you live in the Pacific Northwest where it always rains." See, here in the PacNW, we don't get Real Rain. We get misty rain. It's basically fog. When I first moved here I was told no one ever carried an umbrella. I thought that was ridiculous... until I realized an umbrella does nothing against fog and drizzle. So this morning we had a constant and hard downpour--not what we usually have. Even with a raincoat, I was soaked to the bone.

So, I parked halfway between my stylist and the hippie diner and walked in the rain. The breakfast was great as was the stylist. I had my color touched up, the ratty ends cut off my hair, and a hand massage. It doesn't take much to make me happy.

Breakfast! (Tofu with awesome salsa and avocado, combo of home fries and black beans, and tortillas)

After my haircut and the purchasing of a new pair of Danskos and the ordering of another pair (their vegan clogs are half the cost of normal ones, and Dansko sent me some coupons after I wore a hole in the sole of my black clogs), I had to navigate the random downtown one-way streets around the various closed downtown streets (due to the early St. Patrick's Day Parade) to get to Trader Joe's.

Yes, I went to Trader Joe's on a Saturday afternoon. For those of you who have never been to a Trader Joe's, they are usually in strip malls and they are notorious for their small parking lots. And our Trader Joe's serves our town and surrounding areas plus all of the southern Vancouver, BC suburbs. Seriously, I think there are more Canadians at our Trader Joe's than Americans. I know I hear a lot of French whenever I am there (it always make me wish Frenchie were here so she could tell me what they're saying). Anyway, the Trader Joe's parking lot will test even the calmest person's nerves. So when it's someone like me, a person will little tolerance for what I think is stupidity, it pretty much makes my head explode. And then on the way home I had to deal with more traffic than normal due to the closed roads and parade. People were turning left from the right-hand lanes, stopping for no reason, turning in front of me... so on and so forth.

At some point I started keeping a mental list of things I said/gestures made and how many I said/made them:

• Number of times I said, "How fucking stupid are you?": 3, at least
• Number of times I said, "Jesus Fucking Christ": Too many to count
• Number of times I called someone a jackass: Too many to count
• Number of people I flipped off in Trader Joe's parking lot: 3
• Number of people I flipped off not in Trader Joe's parking lot: 2
• Number of times I said, "Goddamn Canadians": 1
• Number of times I honked: 2

I have to dress like what?

So I went to this charity even last night. I was half dreading it, half looking forward to it. I was going to support a friend who is involved with the organization. It was one of those silent/live auction things where there is dinner and drinks, you buy a table, etc. So, my friend bought a table and invited a bunch of people. If she had to go, she was going to spend the night with people she liked.

In an email she sent to all of us, she mentioned semi-formal dress. My heart stopped. Sure, I like to dress up. I have fancy shoes, etc., but I haven't had to dress up for anything in a long time and most of my dressier clothes are more professional. And after so many years in the south, my vision of dressed up is $900 shoes and prom dresses. I don't want to dress like that and I don't feel comfortable dressing like that. But then I remembered where I lived and realized if I put a little effort into looking presentable, I would be good.

I considered wearing jeans and some fancy heels and calling it dressed up, but I decided to make an actual attempt. While in Seattle over the summer I was looking at dresses at Nordstrom. I began to think it was time for me to buy a grown-up dress for things like this, but nothing really fit right. The skirts were either too long or too full. The waist was usually too long, and the chest too small. They told me they had an alterations department that could fix all of those things. I didn't feel like going through all of that for a dress I had nowhere to wear, but it was good to know I had some options for when I needed a fancy dress. For me, a person with an oddly proportional yet out-of-proportion body type, alterations are really my only option.

However, we don't have a Nordstrom in town, and I didn't have time for alterations. So... I dragged my ass out of bed yesterday morning to go to the mall to find a dress. Let me say this: I hate the mall. But, like I said, I wanted to at least make an effort. I hit all the department stores and couldn't find anything off the rack that fit. I found an adorable dress at, of all places, Target. It fit great everywhere except the chest. I found another that was so-so but it wasn't right. I found another that was a mix between 1980s color-blocking and Joan Holloway... And I fell in love with it. And it was on sale. And it was about a half-size too small. So, after two hours in the damn mall (which, believe me, is fucking torture), I wandered into JC Penny's. I have no clue why. I figured I was there, why not. What did I find? A cute, shimmery blue top with a low, yet tasteful scoop neckline and cap sleeves. For $15. That would go perfectly with a skirt I already owned. Score.

And you know what? I looked pretty good. And I had an excuse to wear my bitch shoes (aka, my pointy-toed, spikey heels).

On a side note: These things can get tedious and boring, but it can be entertaining to watch the drunk people. And, wow, was there one drunk person to watch. She was at the table in front of us. She wore a short, short dress and everyone within view of her chair was grateful for the cloth napkin she had in her lap--because we really didn't want to know whether she was wearing underwear or not. Mystery is always better. (I really wanted to take a picture but couldn't figure out how not to be obvious about it.) She was someone important and got up to talk at the end of the night, and it was painfully uncomfortable. I started giggling because it was so ridiculously embarrassing. But to give you a better visual, let leave you with this: She was the perfect combination of Snookie from Jersey Shore and Amy Winehouse and just as much of a trainwreck in spiked heels.

So I lied

Yes, I watched most of Top Design last night. Why? Because it was there, and because I was too tired, worn out, and just plain exhausted to do anything else. You know those days where you get home from work, sit down, and can't get back up again? You just don't have the energy to move? But you feel like this for no good reason? Yeah, it was one of those days. Anyway, I missed the beginning of Top Design so I don't know what the actual task was. But whatever. The main thing? What the hell was judge number two wearing? (I don't know any of their names because I don't care enough to learn them.) It was a strapless ruffly dress over a white tshirt worn over leggings? Or were they skinny jeans? I'm not sure. Whatever it was, it was ugly.

So, the shoes I ordered from Zappos didn't work out. They were returned, and I ordered these instead.



Yes, they are Danskos. I am a librarian and am required by the super secret librarian code to only wear Danskos. I don't care. I like them. But I think my mom had shoes like this when I was in high school, and I made fun of them. And her. I guess we all come full circle, don't we?