The "How is this fair" awards goes to...

Good evening!

So last week Peaches got her very first honest to goodness, go to fill out a W2, job.  She's going to wash dishes one of my favorite eateries in downtown Waukesha. 

Those of you with teens who recently got their first job, you know what I'm about to ask:

How is it fair that the kid gets a job and before they can start, I've gotta shell out $100?

See, Peaches is 15, which means we need to get a work permit. Now, she could just get that from school, (fee of $10) BUT, she needs a copy of her birth certificate. THAT means one of us, Hubby this time, had to leave work early  (Hourly pay lost:  $20)  and pay $20 for a copy of the birth certificate because the records office is conveniently open ONLY from 8:30 AM to 4:30 PM M-F. 

THEN, Peaches is informed she'll need some clothes to wear to work.  No problem.  She needs some plain white shirts, a pair of black bottoms, something she can wear in the hot of a kitchen, and some non skid close toes shoes.

That involves a trip to Kohl's, because she apparently has none of those things.

Bill at Kohl's: $70.

And thusly, I'm out $120 and the kid hasn't started work yet.

For $120 I might have gotten my bathroom cleaned a couple times and maybe a week or two of laundry done. 

The real kicker is that I've offered to pay Peaches many time to wash dishes.  She loathes it.  Somehow, however, if you put a black apron on her and pay her minimum wage, she's all over it.

Meanwhile, the owners are getting married.  Now, I'm as happy for them as anyone, but Friday, after Peaches' first night at work, she got a little envelop addressed to her and to me.

It was an invitation to a wedding shower.

For the boss.

Whom we've known for one day.

I'm not going...but now I've gotta get a gift.

The kid is working, and I'm going into dept!

How is this fair?

All I wanted was a pair of earrings...what I got was a blog post.

Good evening!

My good friend Dee tells me that I shouldn't write angry, but that I can blog angry if I want to.  I needed to vent to Dee for about 45 minutes today because of what happened.

You all know I LOVE Kohl's department store.  LOVE IT.  If they sold groceries, I truly would never shop anywhere else.  True, I said that about Walmart, but I really do mean it about Kohl's.  I love their clothes, I love their prices, I love their housewares.

I thought I loved their jewelry.

Let me back up.

Yeah, she probably worked with Elsie, too.

This has been a very rough week for me.  Last week Friday Elsie decided she was mad at me for DOING MY JOB and for DOING HER JOB BETTER THAN SHE DOES and she shrieked at me on the phone at the end of the day.  Realizing that for whatever reason, she was never going to get fired, I decided I had enough, and I cleaned out my desk.  I haven't quit my job but to quote Alison, the Basket case from "The Breakfast Club,"   "You never know when you might have to jam."

Rough week at work often translates into a rough week at home, and this week was no exception.  Skippy was dour, Peaches was sour, Hubby was non communicative and I don't know what we are feeding the cats, but the cat boxes have been super foul this week.  Oh, and thanks to my weird schedule and the fact that I felt like crud, I didn't get to Gold's.

So this morning I was feeling very, very low.  And then I realized that I've lost about half my earrings, all my favorites, of course, and that didn't make me all that happy.  I don't have a lot of earrings to begin with, and the ones I have I really do love.

So hubby, being the good guy he is, gave me the Kohl's card and a coupon and told me to get some pretty earrings.

At first it was a great trip to Kohl's.  I was also looking for a pair of semi dressy shorts. I didn't find any, but I found some Capri pants that slim me, and frankly, a slimming pair of Capri's is far better than a pair of shorts.  Besides, at my age and weight group, I shouldn't be revealing that much of my legs.

So I was very excited about myself when I got to the fine jewelry counter.  I was even MORE excited when I got to the counter and saw that everything was 60% off PLUS another 15% because I was there before noon. 

SCORE!

A couple things caught my eye, but they were locked in a case and I couldn't see the price.  I looked for a clerk.  There were two, at the other end of the counter, talking to each other.  I was the only customer at the counter.

The one caught my eye, walked down, looked at me, sniffed, and said, "someone will be with you in a minute."

Um...someone?  How about you?

She left.  No matter, another girl came up, a young thing, named...Sarah.  I pointed to the earrings and said, "May I see those please?"

Now, maybe I don't understand fine jewelry counter etiquette.  But she looked at me like I'd just asked her to strip down and wrestle.  Then she looked very, very bored.  "Which ones?"

"Those, the blue pearls, those...."  I pointed.

She pulled them out and I looked at them.  I thanked her and handed them back.  "How much is the matching necklace?"

"Which one?"

"The one that matches the earrings I just handed you...that one...THAT ONE."

"That's two necklaces sitting together."

She could haven't sounded more bored...but then I'm pretty sure she'd be dead.

"The wiry one."

She pulls out the necklace, I look at it, love it, but am not ready to part with quite that much room on my Kohl's card.  So I thank her, tell her I'll be back and walk around the counter looking at other items. 

I never actually leave the counter.  Never, not once.  I finally find what I really need, some simple good hoops, little hoops to wear with my other gold hoops from Kohl's.  Again, I can't see a price.  I look around for Sarah, who is also not visible.

I finally lean way over the counter and see her kneeling on the floor, HIDING FROM ME.

Yes, you read that right. In a store where everyone is super helpful and cheery, I managed to come across the one department where they hide from customers. 

"Excuse me?"  I say in my most polite voice.

She ignores me.

"EXCUSE ME!"  I say in a far less polite voice.

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to look at these earrings please."

She sighs heavily.  "In a minute."

Now, normally, the wild, loud angry fat woman in me would come raging out.  But it's been a rough week, and I've haven't been well.  So instead, my insecure, nervous, fat girl who thinks she's not worthy of anything makes an appearance and I all but crumble at the humiliation of it all.  This little twenty something in her Dana Buckman (the only reason I know this is because I have the exact outfit in fat girl size at home) suit has crushed me with her witheringly bored sighs.  It was all I could do to stay at the counter and wait for her to stand up, get out her key, unlock the case, and ask "Which ones?"

At that point I knew I didn't dare look at a pair of earrings without buying them.  She had me in her power, and I had to do it so she could be left in peace again.  "I'll take these."  I said in my "I know I'm fat, please sell these pretty things to me anyway" voice.

"You done shopping?"

Well, I wasn't...but then I guess I was.  "Yes,"  I responded meekly.

"You got other stuff?"

"Yes."

She sighed heavily.  "You got a lot of stuff?"

"I have three things, that's all."

Another weary sigh.  "Come to the other side."

While I was making my way around, an older lady walked up to the counter and very nicely asked Sarah if she could look at the sales flier tucked next to the cash register.  Sarah gave the older lady a completely blank face, the kind teens give the elderly when the elderly utter words, and said, "I don't even know if it's a current one, so you can't have it."

The older woman stared at her, shocked at the response.  "Well, I wanted to check something."

"Well," says Sarah, "I'm not giving you this flier, so maybe go up to customer service...they probably have a flier up there."

I was enraged.  How dare this wan little blight of a person talk that way to that nice older lady?

NO COUPON FOR YOU!

Oh, but wait...I still had to pay for my earrings. 

It was sort of like buying soup from the Soup Nazi in Jerry Seinfeld.  (See Skippy, that show is important for something.)  I stepped to the counter, handed her my four things, and then said, "May I use this coupon?"

She looked at it. "This is expired.  So no, you can't"

Now, I've been to Kohl's when they've let people use coupons that are expired, or they've given people coupons, I've had it happen to me.  Not this chick.  She didn't tell me how much I saved...and she didn't ask me to take the survey.  She handed me my receipt.  She didn't even say thank you.

Now, I should have stopped at the customer service counter.  I should have.  But I was in such a mental black out...and you women, you know what I mean. You can't believe someone has just treated you the way you've been treated, and then you think you deserved it for whatever reason.  My mother always felt she had to take it because she was the Principal's wife, and she wasn't dressed nicely enough.  My grandmother felt she had to take it because she was the pastor's wife, and she wasn't dressed nicely enough.

I felt I had to take it because I'm fat.  (I was dressed just fine, thank you.)

I have, by now, broken out of that mental black out, and I know two very important things.

1)  Oh, I will be taking that survey this time.

2)  I may have to stop in at Kohl's tomorrow, "Pretty Woman" style, and inform them that the next time I need to buy earrings, or any jewelry, I'll be going to Walmart.

Granted, not quite the effect Julia Roberts got in "Pretty Woman" but it's a big step for me.

You want me to take a survey? How about you say "pretty please?"

Hello all!

Well, I'm getting ready for the Oscars, how about you?  I'm going to my very first Oscar party with my critique partner, Linda, and I can't wait!

I don't know if you've noticed, but it seems like everyone we come in contact with needs us to do a survey.  Now, I'm an American, I'm used to getting surveyed for political issues.  (Okay, I'm not.  I've never ONCE been polled for anything.  Seriously, I'm right here.  My number is listed.  Everyone seems to be able to find me when they want me to vote, how about asking me my opinion on something...anything?)

Wait, I'm getting off track.

I think I really started noticing this survey mania when Kohl's  employees held up my receipt and said, "On the bottom is a web site where there's a survey.  Please let us know how we did today."

I smile, and say, "Sure!"

I never do the surveys, of course.  Who has the time?  Okay, reality, who keeps the receipt long enough to have the website at hand when you are at the computer to do the survey.  Taking this one step further...it's Kohl's.  Why do they even bother printing a receipt?  They'll take anything back, as long as you will accept store credit, so why bother?

Again, I'm getting off topic.

Fast food places started doing it, and they were offering free stuff.  I actually took an on the spot survey at Culvers  (If you don't live in a place that has a Culvers, you need to move.)  I won a free drink!  Whoo hoo!

That awakened me to just how many times a day I'm asked to take a survey.  The big capper came yesterday.  Hubby and I were at Sam's Club  (Think Costco...only more like Walmart.)  and the woman at the door  (you know, the person who has to make sure than in the ten feet from the register to the door you didn't lift something and put it in your cart) circled a web address at the bottom of the reciept and said, "take the survey."

Wait.  "Take the survey?"  No "please?"  No, "Win a free lunch?"  Just "Take the survey?"

I was so insulted, I wanted to go home and take everyone else's survey just to make the Sam's Club survey feel bad!

On the way home I looked over my work life and recalled the times I've had to beg people to take a survey.  I briefly worked for a car dealership who had me calling warranty customers and asking them if they were "mostly satisfied, fully satisfied, or completely satisfied."

I lasted about two weeks in that job.

In my current position I call customers we've installed and asked them to take a two question email survey that coporate may, or may not have, put in their email in boxes.  I beg, plead, appeal to their better nature, implore them to help us evaluate that ever so nice young man who came and installed the item.

I rock at getting people to take the survey.  I know I rock because I have a 96% positive response to corporate surveys.  Before I took over, that number was 14%.  (But Elsie is the one getting the bonuses.)

Wait, I'm off track again.

Anyway, I realize that that businesses need feedback from their customers and apparently just having us continue to shop in the store isn't enough.  So, we must do the surveys.  I get it.

But maybe use a magic word...you'd be surprised just how well "please" and "Thank you" work.

All I need is a movie...and this sweater...and this necklace...

Good morning!

Pick up a movie.  Pay a bill.  That's it.  That's all we have to do today.

So yesterday Hubby and I ran out to do some errands.  We deposited his check, we went to get the best old world oatmeal on the planet at the Steaming Cup, we were going to pick up a DVD copy of "Breaking Dawn."  (That was really the only reason I had to leave the house yesterday.  I'm too old to go to the midnight release/costume party...although I haven't shaved my legs in a while, so i could probably have gone as a werewolf.)

And, while we were out, I wanted to pay down my Kohl's bill.

For those of you who don't know, Kohl's is a Wisconsin based retailer who is taking the country over with their ridiculous discounts, their sensible clothing, their big name designers, and their most delicious clearance racks.  Kohl's is so huge on making sure you know you're getting a good deal, they announce how much you've "saved" at the end of your transaction.  Oh, and if you use your Kohl's card, you get 15-30% off every transaction.  Hence, my Kohl's bill, while not out of control, does have a bit of a balance.  2012, I'm paying off a couple credit cards if it kills me.

Clearly, the Kohl's card is not going to be one of them.

All I needed was a cream colored mock turtle neck.  Hubby was paying the bill, I was going to run to the men's department and get one because men's mock necks are warmer, better made, and usually less expensive.

Hubby saw a sign for suit coats on clearance.  Now he doesn't wear a suit to work...he doesn't wear them to church.  I'm not sure why he wanted to try them on, but hey, I had to use the restroom, so I left him to his own devices.

That's where I went wrong.

Not with leaving Hubby...with using the bathroom.  My issues with public restrooms is well documented, but I will use Kohl's bathrooms because I  know they are clean and since I used to work at a Kohls' it feels more like an office bathroom than a public one.

For those of you who dwell in wintry zones, you know that your coat and purse can get cumbersome.  The stores are hot, and the coat is heavy.   I got out of the restroom, and didn't want to lug my coat around.  So I went to the front of the store to get a cart.  Then I headed back to where Hubby was.  My path took my right past the women's department.

I wasn't going to shop.  In fact, I've sworn to myself that I wouldn't buy any new clothes until I crossed a weight loss goal.  Well, there's something bigger than a weight loss goal, and that's cuddly sweaters discounted by 80 and 85%.  

And then my favorite pants were marked down and since I'm down a size in those I picked up a new pair.

And I still needed a cream colored mock neck...but they didn't have those, so I picked up a really pretty cream colored top.  And of course I had to get a top to go under one of the sweaters and wouldn't you know it?  Those tops were on sale for 70% off.  PLUS, it was early, so it was Power Hours, and we would save even more! 

By the time I found, or rather tripped over, hubby on my way to accessories.  He was loaded down with two suit coats and a plethora of other things, all from the 80% rack.  We then spent some time picking out necklaces  (I need to "Girl up" my wardrobe a bit.  I wear a man's wedding ring, I have short hair and a fat face, and I spend a lot of time in men's sweaters and mock necks.  I can't wear bracelets because of the thumb braces, which look like sparring gloves.  I need something girlie around my neck!) 

By the time we got to the check out, we were playing the "over under" game that we play.  Usually it's "Are we over/under $100" and we play it at the grocery store.  Yesterday it was $200.  Hubby said under, I said over.  Then I said, "But we'll have "saved" $600.

I won on both counts.  The bill was $205, but, thanks in part to the clerk who gave us 20% off everything even though we didn't bring in the coupon,  we "saved" over $700.  (Great marketing ploy, this savings thing, but if you're paying full price at Kohl's, you're just not trying.  They never charge full price.)

So we about broke even on the credit card bill...and I put the receipt on the fridge.  (My kids don't bring me artwork anymore, so I have to put something up there.)    The really good news is that I never buy anything that trendy  (mostly because they don't make trendy clothes for fluffy girls.)  and what I got was meant to be worn loosely.  Which means I'll be wearing these clothes right through my weight loss.  (I'm down another pound this week.  Still re losing the six pounds I initially lost last year as part of my 24 pound loss, but I'm going in the right direction.)

Are big girls wearing jammies to the office? I must've missed that memo!

Hello my friends!

So, coming as a surprise to almost no one, the third shift gig is starting to wear on me a tiny bit.  Don't get me wrong.  The company I work for is a GREAT COMPANY.  The starting pay and benefits are great.  However, due to my own budgetary needs, I need to work 3rd shift, and 1)  I'm not sure I like never knowing what day it is  and 2)  the job is waaaaaaaaaay more physical than this old girl is up for.  (If you're short, beware, everything I have to lift, carry, get, use, and put away is stored up over my head.)

Anyway, I've gotten serious about finding another office job.  You know, one where I get weekends off like normal people, where two days off in a row is not considered a vacation, and where no one is suggesting I drink wine at 6 AM.  (Okay, I'm not completely against that last thing.) 

Let me just say I have NEVER had to wear "business" clothes to work.  Never.  Not ever.  Not once.  When I was a teacher I wore "teacher clothes" which generally consisted of black twill pants and a polo shirt or a sweater or a denim jumper.  (yes, I went through my denim jumper phase.  We all did, so hush.)

Once married, I got a job in an office where "business casual" meant black twill pants and a nice top.  Once I had kids I worked for a cleaning company...in my basement.  When I would emerge to do sales calls, again, black twill pants and a nice top.  (Do we see a pattern here?)

Having worked alone in an office where no customers stepped foot for five years, I'll admit that my work wardrobe deteriorated down to sweats and a t-shirt most days. 

Thusly, when I received a phone call the other day, setting up an interview, the woman told me to "wear business dress."

Had she been speaking Chinese I could not have been more confused.  "Business dress" is not a term I've ever, you know, put in the same sentence as my name. 

Undaunted, I went to Kohl's, armed with those great merchandise cards I got when I returned the two pairs of Gloria pants that about killed me, the two white polo shirts that are, well, white polo shirts, and the Sketchers shape ups that nearly destroyed my feet in one night.  (I didn't have a receipt, so Kohl's gave me merchandise cards.  I love Kohl's!)  Bonus, I brought along Hubby, who brought along his Kohls' card and a 30% off coupon.

I pointed out three perfectly suitable outfits in the "business section" and told Hubby I was now going to find those outfits in the "fluffy girls" department. 

Yeah, right.  Sorry, Vera Wang doesn't design for anything above a very small 14. 

Kohl's Fluffy Girl department isn't great.  I shop there more than any other store because 1)  It's a mile better than just about every other discount big box store and 2) the price is usually right.  But someday I might have enough money to go look at the miles and miles of pretty fluffy clothing at Macy's or Boston Store, or, dare I say it?  Lane Bryant!  (Or, I know you're all saying, I could just lose the darn weight!)

I pulled a couple dresses and a very nice pair of dressy pants and some tops and headed to the trying on room.  (my first mistake.  I hate those stupid little rooms.  It's like getting naked in a closet...a closet that's really over lit and has been used by about 10000 other people who may, or may not have left stuff behind.) 

Yes, I'm only a size 16...not I'm not expecting.  Why do you ask?

First of all, dresses for big girls.  Did I miss something?  Are we big girls now just saying it's okay to wear maternity clothes?  Because I put on two dresses, both of which had "waistbands" that tied right until my boobs, giving the rest of the garment a sort of tent effect over my gut and butt.  The result?  I looked like I was about four sizes bigger...and 8 months along.

So I tried on the pants.  Again, since this is SUMMER, apparently those who work in "business attire" are allowed to wear shorts or something because just finding a full length pair of pants was a challenge.  But I had a nice Dana Buchman top (I'm saying these names like I have any idea who these designers are.  I don't.) so I picked up the corresponding pair of black pants.

The top, for the record, looked great. 

The pants, on the other hand...well, they were essentially pajama pants.

COME ON!

I looked in the Misses department.  There are no jammies there.  Thin women are not supposed to wear pajamas to the office.  Why are designers making fluffy women do so? 

And not only were these pajama pants, they weren't even flattering.  Again...they made me look like I was a foot shorter and four sizes bigger.

I'm not going to lie. I was enraged. Bigger women work in offices, I've seen them.  And they have nice clothes.  Then again, maybe all the big women I've seen are really just a 1x but because of the way the clothes look on them, they look bigger.

Maybe there is no obesity problem in this country...maybe it's just that those of us who aren't a size 6 are forced to wear clothes that amplify our extra size.

See this suit?  Don't I look ready for business?  Smart?  Successful?  Well, big girls, we don't make this outfit in your size!  EVER!

Well, I haven't given up.  I mean, that dress was super comfy and who wouldn't want to wear jammies to work?  (Okay, I had that job...and I quit it. So let's move on.)  But I have NOT GIVEN UP!  I'm not a house, I'm a woman with a little extra bigness. 

Hey, plus sized girls:  NO SUIT FOR YOU!

I went back to the drawing board and...thank goodness for Sag Harbor.  Unfortunate name aside, Sag Harbor actually designs decent clothes for actual women.  Bonus, while they still were selling Capri pants as business attire  (And seriously, maybe I just don't know anything, but I can't see a business person wearing Capris to work) there were some actual, honest to goodness, reach down to the floor PANTS.

So I had a suit top, a top to go on under the suit top, a pair of pants, and an interview bra.  All I needed was...

Oh, what, you've never heard the term, "interview bra?"

Well, my friends, an interview bra is, as it is called, the bra you wear to interviews.  It's maybe not the most comfortable bra you own, but it points the girls in the proper direction.  Who is going to hire someone for a detail oriented job when the interviewee can't even keep track of which way the girls are pointing?  The interview bra doubles as the concert bra, the difference being that one does not wear a t-shirt over the interview bra.  One wears a nice top and then a suit top of some sort.

Moving on...

I had the interview bra, the top, the suit top, and the pants.  All I needed was the black shoes.

I know, those of you who know me know that I have 1)  a ton of shoes and 2) a half ton of black shoes.

But I needed specific INTERVIEW shoes.  Shoes that made me a little taller.  Shoes that didn't howl "I've given up on dress shoes and this black sport type shoes is as good as it's getting."

I found a nice pair of slip ons that had a bit of a heel, didn't seem too "comfortable" and yet didnt' pinch my feet.

Now, the buying part.  None of this was on clearance.  Okay, everything was about 30-40% off, but honestly, if you're buying full price at Kohl's, you aren't trying at all.  Rung up total for this outfit before coupons:  $127.  Then we had the 30% off coupon, and the merchandice cards.

Final total

$2.83.

Yes, you see that correctly.  Hubby whipped out $3 in cash and we were on our way.

And will I be wearing this outfit to every interview?  Yep.  And will I be returning part or all of the outfit if, after about three months, I don't have a new job?

Well, that would be wrong...right?  LOL!

Well done Gloria Vanderbilt...you just lost a customer!

Good afternoon!

Most of you know that I recently changed jobs and now I'm working third shift.  While working at night and sleeping during the day is a big change for me, it's not even remotely the most annoying thing about this job change.

The company I work for has very specific uniform requirements, one of which is that we all must wear black twill pants.  BLACK.  TWILL.  PANTS.  

I'm not saying that black pants are the easiest piece of clothing to own, but I have a pair of wool, a pair of twill, two pairs of jeans, and a pair of twill Capri's.  I love black pants.  Bonus, in the last year I've sung the praises of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and Capri's...how they fit, how a 16 is a 16  is a 16 and how I can walk in to Kohl's, pick up a pair of Gloria bottoms and walk out without the humiliating trip to the trying on room.

So last weekend, in preparation for the new job, Hubby and I took his Kohl's card  (I don't dare have one) for a workout.  I needed black pants and black shoes and black socks.  I knew, deep in my heart, that the black pants would be the easiest of the three things to find because, yes, Gloria Vanderbilt makes a BLACK.  TWILL. PANT. 

More exciting, the pants were 1)  built with an elastic waistband that would "stretch with ease" according to the label and 2) were on sale.

I tried a pair on and it seemed okay...a bit snug at the wait, but I figured, since the rest of the pant fit me like EVERY OTHER PAIR OF GLORIA VANDERBILT bottoms I've EVER put on, that the waist was something that was going to stretch with a bit of wear.

My first night of work, I didn't have the required uniform shirt, so the new boss told me to get a white polo shirt.

Okay, as a side note:  The white polo shirt is THE WORST SHIRT EVER for a fluffy girl to wear.  Don't get me wrong, I'm preppy to the  core and I love a collared shirt.  But there is something about polo shirts that is just really, really wrong on a bigger girl.  Women's polo shirts are cut like maternity tops, (SHORT maternity tops)and men's are about a mile long.  I loathe having my gut visible, so I chose the men's shirt.

Got to work...no problem...until about 5:00 in the morning when the morning kitchen person came in.  I introduced myself and, instead of saying something normal like "hi...how are you.  Welcome...did you like your first night"  this delightful miss glowered at me and said, "You know you're supposed to have that tucked in."

Alrighty.

By the end of the shift, it was really, really clear that no WAY was I tucking anything into those pants.  The "stretches with ease" waistband was so rough on the inside I was actually rubbed a little raw.  And clearly, there was not enough room for ME in those pants much less a shirt. 

Let me just say again...these pants fit me in every other way perfectly.  just not in the waist.

So, the morning after my first night of work, instead of going to bed like a normal person, I went out on what was to become a major QUEST for Black Twill Pants.  Peaches was very excited to go to the Mall on a Wednesday morning  (She finished 8th grade last week.)  so we went up to the mall where I had no less than four choices of stores that claimed to offer clothing to fluffy women.

The first store, my go to store for pants, CJ Banks, didn't even have PANTS.  I walked in, explained to the equally fluffy clerk what I needed and she made a face and said, "You want full length pants?  Ummmmmm, I don't think we have those right now."

Okay, it's June.  It's not Miami. 

She did manage to find a half rack of nicely priced clearance pants....but of course my size was not to be found.  For grins, I tried on the 16 tall, which was as close as they got to my size.  Sure enough...everything fit...EXCEPT THE WAIST. 

When I say everything fit, I mean everything was super comfortable and actually a little loose...except the waist band.  Imagine your favorite pair of sweat pants...not imagine someone cut off about 4 inches of the waistband and then band the band material of barbed wire.  You get the picture.

Not defeated, I thanked her and went to JC Penney's.  I've shopped there infrequently over the years, but my aunt swears by them, and I know they have a plus size department.

If that's what you could call the four racks of clearance sweaters and a shelf of black Capri jeans. 

Misses at JC Penney's takes up an entire floor.  Plus is four racks and a table.  In a country where 52% of all woman ages 18-49 has said they've purchased plus sized clothing, (I got this number from Reader's Digest Magazine.) why are big retailers IGNORING THE MAJORITY OF WOMEN?  I mean, I expect that of Walmart and Target.  I haven't purchased clothing at those stores in years.  Walmart makes an attempt, but Target is just insulting.  Sort of like Penney's, only Target slaps their four racks of plus next to the maternity clothes.  That's just mean.

My next stop, and at this point I'm a little steamed, was to Lane Bryant.  Now Lane Bryant is a store where I would shop in a heartbeat...if I had serious money.  I like their clothes, but their prices are ridiculous for the normal woman.  Apparently only the wealthy are allowed to be fluffy.  How very Rubens of them.

I found a pair of black twill pants, and I know they would have fit me.  However, I WAS NOT prepared to spend...get ready...$65 on a pair of pants I was going to be wearing to clean bathrooms, and frost donuts.

Furious, I walked the length of the mall to Sears.  At this point I had zero hope.  And I wasn't disappointed.  I actually had to ask a woman where the plus department was...since Sears does such a good job of hiding their...count it with me, one, two, THREE racks of plus behind swimsuits and shoes.  Really?  Oh, but the woman I asked attempted to lure me into buying new windows. 

More valuable than gold, harder to find than plutonium...the comfortable black pant.

At this point I'd been up for more than 24 hours in a row, I was cranky, I was hungry, and I was insulted.  NO, I  WILL NEVER BUY WINDOWS FROM SEARS.

I didn't even bother looking.  Apparently Sears' idea of a plus sized woman is an 80 year old tramp who likes her pants slinky and her tops ripped.

In complete desperation, I went back to Kohl's, the scene of the original crime.  Since I had $30 in Kohl's cash  (from my previous purchase of two uncomfortable pairs of pants and a white shirt I'll never where again) I went back to the Department of Redundancy that is the plus department there (every designer for Kohl's believes a plus woman loves tank tops (we don't) and will only wear pull on pants( while comfortable, we think of these pants and the final stage of giving up.)

I picked up a pair of the offending Gloria pants and held them up to every other style of Gloria pants.  Yep, just as I thought.  The "Waistband that expands with ease" was a full TWO INCHES shorter than the waist bands on her jeans and her Capri's.  And not just shorter...tighter material.  SHAME ON YOU GLORIA VANDERBILT.

After almost an hour of searching...and cussing...I managed to find a pair of pull on pants  (blech) and a pair of Lee pants that seemed decent.  The pull on pants were comfortable and on clearance.  The Lees were very comfortable and NOT on clearance.  But, the Lees were NOT pull on pants and therefore the winner.

Two hours.  Five stores.  $12 later (after the Kohl's cash) I had pants...and a shorter white shirt.  Tucked in and belted I sort of look like a soft sack of potatoes with a belt in the middle.  Lovely.

I wore the outfit for work last night and fortunately I got to wear an apron.  I was comfortable, so I guess that's what matters.  I plan on returning both pairs of Gloria pants (Kohl's is VERY liberal in their return policy, so beware...you might get pants I wore for a couple hours.  Another reason why washing clothes you buy is a MUST) and exchanging them for Lees.  Who knows, I'll probably, after this experience, flip over to Lee jeans as well.  Good Job Gloria, you just lost a customer for life. 

And I buy a lot of pants!

It's funny what I'll stand in line for...

Good afternoon!

For those of you who are concerned, yes, I am ready for the Rick Springfield concert tonight.  My hair is colored all one color...and I'm not saying I changed the color much, but for the last two days I've been surprised when I look in the mirror.  I've removed as much unwanted body hair as I can, and I've painted my toenails.  Now, while I might seem a bit optimistic...wearing sandals when the high today is going to be a damp 53 degrees...if I don't wear my fancy sandals tonight, I'll be ready to go on Saturday night when it might be a touch warmer.  The capri pants I was planning on wearing however, well that is a bit optimistic, even for me.

Meanwhile, yesterday was an interesting afternoon for me.  Many of you know that when I'm in the car I'm not what you'd call a patient driver. The same goes double for drive throughs, especially at the bank.  I go to drive throughs only when I have a simple transaction to handle, and I expect others to live by that rule also.  I have no problem at all shouting at the person in front of me at the bank drive through if I have to wait more than, say, three minutes.

So yesterday I was making a simple deposit for work.  It should have been simple anyway...one car ahead of me...which actually pulled away when I pulled up.  The clerk was front and center when my neatly ordered checks and deposit slip hit the suction tube thingy that takes the deposits to the clerk at the window.

The way my bank is set up, the cars in the drive through actually face the bank so we can see everything that's going on while the clerks are handling our transactions.  For me, this is generally not a good thing, because when I'm sitting in a line in my car I'd better not see anyone CHATTING AND NOT DOING BANKING STUFF!

But yesterday, as I mentioned, I was in and things were clicking. 

In almost record time the clerk thanked me and popped the plastic thing into the suction tube thingy. 

And then....

Have you ever had to sit under an industrial hair drier?  That's sort of the sound the bank suction thingy makes, isn't it?  Well, something was obviously STUCK because that noise roared in my ears  (I had the car window open so I could get my slip and leave.)  for no less than three minutes before someone BOTHERED to find out what was going on.  What were they doing in those other three minutes?  Helping customers?  No.  THEY WERE CHATTING AND LAUGHING AND SINCE THEY WERE FACING ME IT LOOKED LIKE THEY WERE LAUGHING AT ME.

Sort of a "Ha ha, we're not actually going to send you your slip....let's see how long it takes for the fat girl in the car to get into a big frothy rage."

For the record, it takes, under those circumstances, forty five seconds. 

When the clerks were done pointing and laughing, someone realized that something was stuck.  I am not sure what she did, but she did manage to make the sound LOUDER for another minute.

Someone else, ironically a fluffy girl, came over and fixed the issue.  I got my deposit slip and was on my way.

I told you that to explain why my next errand was funny.

Yes, we've rethought our purchase of bowler hats and white pants.

So I get to Kohl's to return yet another bra, and I'm in a rage because of the wait at the bank.  Well as luck would have it...there was a long line at the returns desk.  Now, when you're in line to return something at a store, they really don't give you much to do except listen to the complaints of the customer ahead of you.  The customer directly ahead of me had an great transaction...it went something like this:

"I want to return these pants."

"OK, we can do that for you.  Was there anything wrong with the pants?"

"No, I just want to return them."

"Fine. No problem.  Now it says here you used a debit card."

"I don't have a debit card."

"But your receipt says you used a bank debit card."

"I don't have a debit card.  I only use my Kohl's card."

"But ma'am, the receipt you've just handed me says you used a debit card."

"I don't have a debit card.  I want this credited to my Kohl's account."

"I'm sorry...you didn't use your Kohl's account for this purchase so I can't credit it to your account."

(I know...I was surprised too.  I didn't think Kohl's had any return restrictions either!)

"I did because I only ever use my Kohl's card for Kohl's purchases!"

"But ma'am...could you have written a check?"

"Oh yes, right?  I wrote a check.  Well, then, I'd like my money please."

So after listening to that exciting exchange it was my turn.  My patience was, as you can expect, not terribly healthy at this point.  I returned the bra and went in search of the perfect concert purse.  ( I found one.  It cost me $3, holds nothing but my cell phone and some cash, and I can wear it across my body.)

Having hunted and gathered this most precious possession, I then headed up to the check out line.  As you may remember, the last time I attempted to check out at Kohl's I nearly came to blows with the lady because she wouldn't take NO for an answer when I said I didn't need a Kohl's card.

And there she was, waiting for me with eyes glittering. 

My friends, I'd already gone through a frustrating wait at the bank and at the returns line.  I didn't want to wait in line for one more minute.  However...

The check out line right next to her had a couple purchasing a carpet cleaner, two bottles of carpet cleaning solution, and several pairs of untagged socks.  They were paying with pennies, they weren't sure they could get the carpet cleaner to their car unassisted, and they wanted credit for the mail in rebate up front.

With joy I got into line behind them.

Did others go through Credit Card woman's line more quickly than I?  Several shoppers did, in fact.  But I saved myself the aggravation of saying NO fifty times.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I will happily wait in line now for a couple of select things:

1)  A roller coaster

2)  A Rick Springfield signing

3)  To avoid the woman who won't take no for answer when I don't need a store card.


Yes, it's good to learn things about yourself!

And now, I'm off to the concert!  :)

If I were a 34DDD my life would be far simpler!

Good evening!

I'm so sorry...Blogger was down much of the last two days, so I wasn't able to give you a Laundry List Friday...well, Blogger was down and I forgot the brilliant list in my head.  I really must write these things down!

Anyway, yesterday, for no real reason...and CERTAINLY NOT because I 'm going to a Rick Springfield concert next week.. (Yes, Dee had to call me today and remind me that the concert is NEXT week, NOT the following week.)  I went bra shopping.

Like most women, I hate bra shopping.  Oh sure, I know the stats, two thirds of all women are wearing the wrong sized bra.  Well, I would WEAR the right sized BRA if BRA makers would MAKE BRAS to a standard size.  BUT, like every other piece of clothing made for a woman, bra sizes vary from company to company and from style to style.  I've held up a 42 C and a 44 C in a bra  and the cup was completely different.  Hey, more inches doesn't mean a bigger cup.  A C should be a C should be a C.

I'm betting if that were the case, more women would wear the correct size bra.  But I could go get measured  (oh yeah, naked for a store clerk...like it's not humiliating enough when I have to get naked for a doctor.) but really, every store is going to measure for the right size for the bra in their store.  Since I can't afford the bras they sell in the stores where they offer free bra sizing, I sort of have to go with what feels right.  And that varies, like I said, from size to size, cup to cup, maker to maker, and style to style.

Let me bring up, too, how bras are displayed in most stores.  On those stupid plastic hangers with the A cups either in the front or at the top, meaning that the C cups and D cups are either behind everything or at the bottom.  It's sort of like hunting for a buried treasure.  "AHA!  I've got a 44C  Whoop hoop!"  If the Titanic was a 44C bra, we'd still be looking for it.

Guys, you have no idea how much work goes into bra shopping.  Seriously.  You guys go in to buy underwear and your biggest decision is Boxers or Briefs.

We have a menu that would make Gorden Ramsey confused.  Push up, minimizer, deep plunge, full coverage, padded, under wire, wire free, side support, racer back, strapless, cotton, T-shirt, satin, padded shoulders,  colors, white, beige, and, my favorite "modesty petals."


Now I love to shop at Kohl's because I'm one of those people who enjoys the use of their liberal return policy.  Having worked at Kohl's I can tell you that finding a plus sized bra there...even in their "plus sized" bra department...is truly a quest.  I'm sorry, just "plus size" should denote both cup size and band measurement...not just cup size.  I saw a 34 DDD in there.  Seriously...Other than Barbie, who is wearing a 34 DDD?  Not a plus sized girl, that's for certain.  But apparently, in the world of Kohl's  (and Walmart, Target, Sears, any shop that isn't  "specialty" shop that will cost you half your paycheck just to get one bra)  bra sizes STOP at 44.   Period.  Game over.  No one who shops at any normal store is EVER GOING TO NEED A BIGGER BAND THAN A 44.  And by the way...the 44's are all that common, so let's just bury the one we have under 16 of those 34 DDD's we've got.

Do you understand now why US women aren't wearing the right bra size?  It's too hard to find!

Most of the time I just wait until the Playtex bras in the little plastic bags go on sale.  They're clearly marked, they're one step up from jog bra  (I actually prefer them to jog bras...which tend to ride up my neck and itch.)  and it's quick dive into the bra department and back out.  No fuss, no muss.

But ya know, every once in a while a girl likes to fancy up her girls.  Every once in a while, say about the time a girl is going to a...concert maybe...she wants a bra that makes her feel a little more like a female person and less like someone forced to wear a couple sweaty dough balls under her shirt.

So I went to Kohl's in search of a bra that would lift  the girls a bit, point them in the same direction, and maybe take ten years and 50 pounds off.  (Who am I kidding.  I'm always looking for something that will take 50 pounds off.)

Oh there are miles and miles and MILES of bras that lift, curve, soften, minimize, form fit.  I found one that said, "Age appropriate lift."  That's good...after all, I'm not 20, the girls are not going to be at level 1 anymore.  It wouldn't look natural.  But age appropriate lift?  Sign me up!

Shopping for the right size: It's the "Where's Waldo" of the undergarment world.

I picked up two bras, two different companies, both 42 C.  Now I know...I'm a 44...but I've lost 21 pounds.  Some of that had to be back fat, right?  Besides, I'd worked up a sweat looking for a 44 C to no avail.  I should be a 42, right?

Next stop, the check out.

Have you been to the Kohl's check out?

I know every store has their own credit card and they want you to have that card, but Kohl's is on a mission.  It's the one thing that bugs me.  Every five minutes they break into the MUZAK and blather on about the great discounts Kohl's customers get.

Well, Hubby has a card.  We abuse that enough.  I've applied for my own, and been turned down.  There is NOTHING like being turned down for a store credit card while you are in line at that store.  Never, ever again.  I just use his.

But I didn't have his this trip, I was using the good old debit card. 

"Do you have a Kohl's card?"

"My husband does."

"Do you want one of your own?"

"No, thank you."

Now at this point a normal person would check out my stuff and move on. Not this terrier in a Vera Wang cardigan.  Oh no.

"Are you sure?  You could save so much money today."

"No, thank you."

"You know I have one, I use it then I go to customer service and pay the bill right away."

(So then I would have to check out my bras twice at the same time?)  "No, it's okay, thanks."

"But you'd be saving so much money and then you'd have your own card."

SERIOUSLY?  At this point a line is forming and I, because I don't like being a bother to anyone, was feeling a bit embarrassed.  (I know...me....right?)

"No, thank you.  I do not want a card today."

Vera Wang Cardy sighed.  "I thought I'd get one with you."

Why?  Am I wearing a sign:  Pester me, I'll sign up for your credit card?  Really?

So I got home, pretty much in a rage.  Not only did I have to spend an hour trying to find a bra...but the check out harassment made me furious.

What is it they say, "Don't try on bras angry?"

Oh, did I not mention that I LOATHE the try on rooms in stores?  Please.  They are evil, they are small, the smell weird, and I can't get over the idea that someone is watching me.  So I try on stuff at home.  Hence I shop at Kohl's because of their return policy.

So I got home, raging, and struggled into bras...which did not go well.  I broke one of those stupid plastic hangers...tore the tags off of one of them while trying to adjust the straps which were set to the tightest setting. (Something I didn't realize until I'd tried to put it on..the lift was not age appropriate...it was stifling!) 

And will someone please explain why bras need SIX TAGS?

Now, 24 hours later, I'm happy to relay to you that I've found a bra, after my second trip, that fits nicely and makes me feel pretty.  I probably should save one of the six tags so that when I get paid next I'll go buy six of them...if I can find six.  Since it's a 44C, I'll probably have to go to six stores.  If only I could be a 34DDD...my life would be so simple!

10,000 steps before 9 AM? Must be BLACK FRIDAY!

Good afternoon!

I'm almost on my way back to bed.  I realize it's only 1:13 in the afternoon as I write this, but I've been up for nearly 12 hours now and I'm beat dog tired.  You see, I'm one of those women you read about in the paper:  I'm the woman that gets up to get to the stores in the middle of the night on Black Friday.

When this tradition began I am not sure.  I think a few years back Skippy thought it would be good fun to go to the mall at 5 AM.  So with Peaches and niece, we'll call her Twinkle, in tow, we hit the mall at 5 am.  We wandered around, the girls tried on some shirts at Justice, and Skippy got to roam the mall alone for the first time.  As we were wandering about, the girls and I landed upon Windsor a store in the mall known for selling prom style dresses all year long.  They tried these dresses on...at 5:30 in the morning.  I snapped a few pictures with my phone.

And thus a tradition is born.

But in the years since, the tradition has grown out of control.  Personally, I blame the stores.  Why, oh why, do they keep opening earlier and earlier?  Dont' they know that just means I have to get up EARLIER?

Getting up at 4 to be at the mall at 5 is one thing.  But this year we hit a new high...or low.  Kohl's opened at 3 AM.  Guess who was there, WITH EYELINER ON?

Yep, yours truly!

We planned this trip to the minute.  2:50 AM, hit the gas station to get some donuts and a beverage.  3, Kohl's.  4, Target, 5, Walmart because, though Walmart never closed on Thanksgiving, the real fun started there at 5.  (Not really, the real fun started at Midnight and if you thought the fun at Walmart started at 5, you were five hours late.)  Then, after Walmart, off to the mall.

Now, in years past, we've been able to navigate through the shark infested waters of "while they last" quantities and women all filled up with stuffing and disapproval from the day before without too much time spent in lines.

However, when the greatest place to shop in the world, Kohl's, opens at three...well, no one misses that opening.  Old Navy can open at midnight...Walmart can let people wander around for five hours, but the official kick off the Black Friday is KOHL'S.  And all of Waukesha, I believe, was at the same Kohl's this morning.

I wasn't too distressed that, though we entered the doors at 3:05, there were no carts.  It didn't bother me that the store was BAKING HOT to counter balance the Arctic winds outside, making the fact that there were no carts for people to stow their parkas a little annoying.  I wound my way in and out of the crowd, making sure I got the best price on a gift for my husband  (I did) and finding the perfect gift for Peaches (got it) and some new pillows for the kids (can't beat $5 pillows).  Bonus, I ran into a friend of mine...I forget what we call her, so we'll call her Charlotte, because Charlotte is the name I always used in my party lite days when I couldn't remember some one's name.  Charlotte and I had a great chat while our young were out foraging for deals on tops and bangle bracelets.

Once Twinkle and Peaches texted me they were ready to get in line  (and honestly, what did we do before texting?)  we got in line....at the back of the store!  For this I was NOT prepared!

A short (!) 20 minute wait gave me enough pause to dump the top I was about to buy  (It would have looked like a sack on me.  I need to drop 15 more pounds and I can go down a size in tops.)  I was not the only person reconsidering purchases.  The wait line was strewn with items, though picked up in the heat of shopping, were discarded in the cold realization that at some point the credit card bill was coming and no amount of Kohl's cash was going to ease that pain.

Back to the car...in the blustery winds, and on to Target.  We were 50 minutes behind schedule.  No matter, this was FUN!

We got to Target...and I wondered why so many people were standing in line to check out in electronics at the back of the store.  After about ten minutes of fighting my way to the back of the store, this time with a cart full of coats, I realized that this wasn't a line for electronics.  This WAS THE LINE.  And the line ran all the way from the front door, around the store, to the bank of cash registers.  This is a new Target and who ever designed it never expected so many people to come out at the same time for discounted copies of "Toy Story 3."

I texted the girls that we were abandoning Target.  After all, our next stop was Walmart.  There's nothing at Target that I can't get at Walmart, plus this is a new super walmart  (Do you hear that sound?  That angels singing!)  so there would be enough cash registers to check out several waves of shoppers.

I gave Charlotte, who had caught up to us at Target, my cart.  She was smart, her girls were standing in the line already as she was shopping.

Off to Walmart...but first, breakfast!  The donuts well worn off already, we stopped at Mc D's for a spot of grease and a touch of salt and fat.  I asked the nice lady there to rid my front seat of rubbish.  She informed me that she was "NOT ALLOWED" to take rubbish from cars.  Geez, it was just a coffee cup, and by the way, if you're not allowed to take rubbish, how about putting a garbage can someplace in the parking lot?

On to Walmart.  Yes, Super Walmart.  Super parking lot super full.  No worries.  We parked out by "the small tree."  (A new parking lot...there were only roughly 50 small trees...they were all SMALL TREES!)  Again, the crowd was at electronics, but this time things were better managed.  Something to that not closing...ever.  No glut of customers 40 minutes at opening.  I took a look at a gift for Skippy. Not the right model, not the right price.  Girls went through self check.  We were out of Walmart and back on schedule.

Until we tried to find the car.  Did I mention it's COLD OUT THERE?  (well, not maxi pad freezing cold, but still, cold.)  Turns out...I'd forgotten exactly which small tree.  Five minutes in a frozen tundra of a parking lot, in the dark...yeah, I won't be reliving those five minutes any time soon!

Now, ON TO THE MALL!

The gods of parking lots smiled on us.  Brookfield Square is one of those silly malls that, in recent years, has added quite a few stores around itself, using up parking spaces in the process.  Not a big deal...except on Black Friday.  But, like I said, the gods of the parking lot smiled on us, and we found a spot a short Laura Ingalls style hike from the doors. 

This is when Twinkle and Peaches mention that lugging a coat into the mall is a drag.  So we all decide we're brilliant and we are NOT going to wear coats into the mall.  This is not uncommon here in the Northern lands.  We are happy to withstand a few moments of shocking cold so that we do not drop dead from heat exhaustion indoors.

But it's really, really, REALLY COLD and the girls start to jog to the door.  I join in the jog.  What follows is something that's one part foot race, one part farce because, as I have said many times, "Homey don't run."

There' s a reason for that.  I have weak ankles and tender heels.

So...that 150 yard dash I did essentially crippled me.  My ankles hurt, my heels are throbbing and I'd kick myself for running at my age and current state of fitness, but that particular motion would render me incapable of actually walking.

Once inside the mall, we spread out a bit, agreeing to meet later.  Which I was happy to do.  Until I get a text from Peaches informing me that she's found a brilliant pair of heels and wants my opinion. 

I don't have to look.  My opinion is that she has a closest full of brilliant heels she doesn't wear.  She's tall, she's slim, she has ridiculously long legs and high heels only serve to make the other girls jealous.  But I digress.

She didn't get the heels but after several hours now of shopping, we all decide we are thirsty and a quick trip to the food court is in order.  By this point it's almost 7:30 and we haven't tried on any formal dresses yet, so, beverages in hand, we head to Windsor.  That's the highlight of my shopping with these two, because I take pictures and then send them to their fathers...who immediately have strokes at the site of their young teen daughters in formal wear looking about 22.

Peaches and Twinkle in some really pretty, and very grown up dresses!  Not bad for 7:30, after being up for 5 hours!

From Windsor we hit Bath and Body works and here's where I did my damage. To my credit, I did NOT purchase the $120 gift bag for $20 with every $40 purchase.  I could have purchased three.  But I didn't.  What can I say?  I love their soap!  (And if you're on my gift list, well, expect some!)

Heading for home and what I thought would be a short nap, I get a call from my mother who informs me that she now has my grandmother's jewelry and since I have both the girls she wants me to come up and take a look.  Well, since her house and Twinkle's mother's office are close, I figure, why not?

As long as I'm home by 2 to wake up Skippy who has to finish raking the the yard, a job he started at 2 AM, but promised to finish before he went to work.  He hit the mall only and did not shop with us today.  So I have to wake him at 2.

I then get a phone call from Hubby.  Can I pick him up something for lunch?  Well, since his work and my mother's house are close to Twinkle's mother's office, I figure why not?  As long as I 'm home by two.

We sort through the jewelry, I drop a very tired Twinkle with her mother and then...we decide to stop at Mayfair Mall to pick up a Five Guys burger for hubby.

Those of you familiar with Mayfair mall know that it's a zoo in the best of times, again because they built a ton of stores in all the pointless parking and driving space.  All of Milwaukee, most of Wauwatosa, and a good portion of Northern Illinois is in this parking lot. 

It takes us 14 minutes for me to get close enough to drop Peaches off to get the burger.  It takes me another 14 minutes to drive around and get back to Five guys.  Peaches, burger in hand, leaps into the car and we fly....okay, it takes us roughly another 10 minutes to get out of the parking lot.  But Hubby got his burger.  I'm home in time to write this and wake Skippy.

It's 2 pm, I've got 15,065 steps on my counter.  Dee is proud of me.  (I texted her at 7 AM when I hit 8500)  Charlotte has been napping for a few hours.

Was it a successful day?  You bet.  Am I beat tired?  Yepper.  Did I spend too much?  Probably.

Will I do it again next year?

Of course!