Ok. I know a lot of people wont agree with everything I have to say in this blog so I’m warning you now, if you overly love baby showers or bridal showers than perhaps you wont want to read this one. (Or if you really like annoying sales lady people)
I attended one of the cultural traditions of the times yesterday. A baby shower. Those can be fun, and then again they can not be fun. This particular one I went to was one where I only went because my dad asked me to. Otherwise I had plans, well, Saturday plans which means I didn’t have plans but I wanted to be able to do whatever I felt like doing.
Which I could do being a single female.
Anyways.
I walked in just was the prayer was ending. I wonder if outside of Utah if even Mormon baby showers begin with a prayer. And then it was time for munch and mingle.
Let me just tell you whenever I attend a family function like this I feel like I’m being treated as the poor handicap relitive because EVERYONE makes a point of coming over and being like:
“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII MELISSAAAAAAAA HOW ARE YOU?!”
“I’m good.”
“You still in that same apartment?”
“Yes.”
“You still working at the day care?”
“Yes.”
“You seeing anyone?”
“No.”
And then we just look at each other for a second before they move onto someone else.
One of these days I want to say this:
“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII MELISSAAAAAA HOW ARE YOU?!”
“I’M GREAT! My doctors got me on this new medication and it makes me see happy dancing penguins! One of them is named Roger! We’ve started a relationship! I think he’s going to propose around June! Then I wont have to blow up my day care after all!”
I’d probably get something of the same reaction actually, since they all think im crazy anyways.
And maybe I am.
After the baby shower I went shopping. Normally when I go shopping I have a hard time, but after hours and hours of watching what not to wear, I feel I was better prepared, and I was going to go somewhere were the sales people help you out. So I walked into the store and told the girl, “I’m looking for something to go out with my work friends in and it needs to be modest. GO!”
And she seemed to get me pretty well. But here’s the thing, I have the WORST luck when it comes to this. I kid you not! Because while I was trying on a pair of boots the zipper broke, and I was worried they’d make me pay for it even though it seriously wasn’t my fault.
And then when I thought we’d found the right one and walked out, my sales lady had disappeared. While I waited around for her I took a look in the three way mirror and another sales rep was looking at me funny so I asked her opinion.
She couldn’t really give me a clear-cut answer, but apparently it wasn’t as good as I thought, so I went back into my dressing room and started to try on another outfit.
Then my sales lady came back and I had to put back on the other outfit, and then SHE couldn’t tell me what was wrong with it, but apparently there was.
But in the end it worked out because the pants I had on, the fly wouldn’t stay up. And when I told the sales lady she didn’t seem to surprised. So WARNING before you take home a pair of pants make sure when you lock down the fly it doesn’t unzip itself.
I’ve had horrible experiences with flies that don’t stay up. Most of them happening in middle school when I started using a twist tie to keep the fly up all day.
Now I look back and wonder WTH?! (What the Heck!?) Did all the zippers in pants back then just not work? Because since then I haven’t had a problem with flies not staying up where they belong. Maybe it was the brand I bought, but I swear every single pair of jeans in my closet had a twisty through the notch on the fly just so I wouldn’t walk around with it open again.
One of these days I’ll write a blog that consists of the embarrassing stories of my life. Thankfully a lot of those horrors ended with my “Awkward years” of life. I also call them the “Lanky years” because a lot of girls going through that time in their life just looked lanky. Like they’ve been stretched or something…
Off track. Neways!
I ended up buying stilettos for the first and probably last time in my life. These things kill! And although I can wear them to church as well as with my new outfit, I can probably walk about ten feet before I feel like my toes are gonna fall off.
I don’t understand these shoes, I really don’t…
The PAINFUL end.
(Going to church! Bye!)
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