18 May 2011
Dress shopping
So I bit the bullet and went to David's Bridal yesterday to shop for my bridesmaid dress. I was armed with the list of dress options that the bride had sent and a firm resolve to be patient, firm, and dignified.
I walked into the dressing room with seven dresses, two of which were deemed "acceptable" by myself, my sister, and my mother. Three of the other dresses occasioned me to wonder what the fashion world was coming to on two levels: first, the lack of decency and second, the horrendous quality of the seamstressing. The zippers didn't work, some of the seams were crooked, etc. When you go shopping and you realize that you could do a better job yourself, it discourages you from buying the product, especially when it is priced outlandishly.
The two dresses that I ended up waffling between each had their own unique charms. The first was a boatneck in the front and a deep v down the back, but it didn't fit me right. It wasn't that it was too big or too small, it just didn't fit. I looked sorta like I was wearing a sack for potatoes. The second one covers a bit less of me, but it fit perfectly. I found a jacket (which I would have worn with either dress, at least for Mass) that made it quite presentable. It's a little lower than school dresscode would allow for, but still within my comfort zone. I went with the cute one that didn't cause me to resemble something found at a grocery store.
And I'm happy with it. Best part? It has POCKETS! What girl could be unhappy with a dress that has pockets?!
I walked into the dressing room with seven dresses, two of which were deemed "acceptable" by myself, my sister, and my mother. Three of the other dresses occasioned me to wonder what the fashion world was coming to on two levels: first, the lack of decency and second, the horrendous quality of the seamstressing. The zippers didn't work, some of the seams were crooked, etc. When you go shopping and you realize that you could do a better job yourself, it discourages you from buying the product, especially when it is priced outlandishly.
The two dresses that I ended up waffling between each had their own unique charms. The first was a boatneck in the front and a deep v down the back, but it didn't fit me right. It wasn't that it was too big or too small, it just didn't fit. I looked sorta like I was wearing a sack for potatoes. The second one covers a bit less of me, but it fit perfectly. I found a jacket (which I would have worn with either dress, at least for Mass) that made it quite presentable. It's a little lower than school dresscode would allow for, but still within my comfort zone. I went with the cute one that didn't cause me to resemble something found at a grocery store.
And I'm happy with it. Best part? It has POCKETS! What girl could be unhappy with a dress that has pockets?!
17 May 2011
My brother, the problem solver
I was telling a story from school that involved boy-girl drama. In a girls' dorm, whenever there is that sort of drama, people end up staying up til three in the morning talking about it. More often than not, it's blown out of proportion, but that's what girls do in the wee hours of the morning when they're talking about boys. My brother's solution?
"Sometimes I wonder why God didn't just make a special drinking fountain for women to have babies."
"Sometimes I wonder why God didn't just make a special drinking fountain for women to have babies."
16 May 2011
Little Blessings
A hot cup of tea on an unseasonably cold May evening.
Food without dairy or soy.
Unpacking 5 boxes.
Knowing that friends are getting home safely.
No homework.
Sleeping til 10.
Watching fairytale weddings of real people.
Walking around the block with my sister.
Having confidence that things are in bigger hands than mine.
Food without dairy or soy.
Unpacking 5 boxes.
Knowing that friends are getting home safely.
No homework.
Sleeping til 10.
Watching fairytale weddings of real people.
Walking around the block with my sister.
Having confidence that things are in bigger hands than mine.
Let's make it official
I always figure that if I write something down, it somehow becomes an infallible truth, especially if it is written in pen. While I know that this medium is not exactly indelible ink, I'm going to use it similarly, hoping against hope that it will accomplish the same end. What, you may ask, do I want to come true today? I want it to be true that, by dinner, I will have unpacked at least 3 of the oh-so-many boxes that are now piled in my room.
It will happen, I guarantee it.
See? what could go wrong now? :)
It will happen, I guarantee it.
See? what could go wrong now? :)
15 May 2011
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