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2005-07-30 @ 10:09 p.m.
trying on bathing suits and other horror stories meant to scare the ice cream spoon out of your hand

Its a conspiracy you know. It has to be. The way clothes are sized. Come on. Large? My God, if that's large, they must be using the Olson Twins as a size medium. Fruck! I went and tried on some clothes today, since all the stores are having sales on their summer clothing and we still have a month of summer left. I was really excited to go to TJ Maxx, because my brother's girlfriend had been telling me how she had been finding skirt and jeans for like $5 there. And I was all excited because that is just about in my price range. Did I mention she's about a size -0? I seriously doubt if she even weighs 100. I figure maybe about 88 pounds. But I figured that TJ Maxx would have large's and extra large's and I would be able to find something cute, so that I would consequently be cute. I mean, I'm already half way there. You know why? Oh this is a rich. Witty, the hippie chick, in preparation of moving back to the yuppie village, has forsaken her tight jeans and biker babe tank tops in exchange for...are you ready? A skort!! Ha! yeah, that's right, a combo pair of shorts and skirt. I have never worn a skort in my entire life. All I need now is a tennis racquet, a map to the new Starbucks in the village and some keys to a BMW and I'm all set.

So I was shopping around. I pulled out 3 linen shirts (in lime green, pink and white) and then I even boldly grabbed 2 bathing suits because my bathing suit is so worn out, you can see my ass crack through the material. The shirts were extra large only because they did look a little small. And the bathing suits were size 14, my usual size.

Well....I guess its safe to say if I didn't have breasts all the shirts would have fit lovely, but every single one of them totally smashed my boobs flat. And these were extra large's. Do you know how depressing that was? And then came the bathing suits, since I figured, well, I'm already Dee from "What's Happening" and my body probably won't fit into my car when I go out into the parking lot anyways. So I took my bra off, slipped the bathing suit over my underwear (yes, I was wearing them today, since I had worked in the morning) and My God, I felt like a Hoffman's hot-dog being stuffed into its piggish skin since that too, totally smashed down my breasts so that they looked like two small lumps of pudding squishing out the sides of the bathing suit.

Since when did my breasts start going horizontal instead of vertical?? I wasn't even sure if I wanted to try on the second bathing suit, but what the hell, I was already half nekkid anyways. That too, made me look like a large lumpy tube of spandex toothpaste. That is to say, a tube of spandex toothpaste with tiny smooshed boobs.

Talk about being downhearted. And I've even lost 7 pounds in the last month. Geeze, where did I lose it left ear lobe? My ego? My eyelid? I just finally gave up on the clothes thing. I was going to stop at a second store called Peter Harris because they were having a big 1/2 off sale, but my ego was so bruised, I decided to just go directly to the yuppie grocery store and accidentally on purpose go to the bulk candy aisle and drown my sorrows in dark chocolate non-pereils.

I guess I'm having a hard time because of all the stress about the move. And "A" is on vacation, and I haven't seen him much late anyways, because of his ever fluctuating schedule and I also no longer have my support group. It's rather ironic that here I am without any support group, yet I lead or CO-facilitate as many as 3 different ones at work. I like CO-facilitating groups. I actually prefer them to my one-on-one contact with clients. But I really can't break down and start sobbing about stuff that's happening in my life since I'm supposed to be supplying support, not needing it. It's difficult. So I have been depending on my mom a lot and eating McFlurries a lot, and neither of those two are particularly good for me. I had an argument with my mom yesterday because she said I was being mean to her, when I was venting my frustration about all the hoops I have to jump through to get funding and go to appointments and do paperwork and I don't know how Section eight works exactly and I'm afraid I'm going to fuck something up and lose everything. I was just venting, but she thought I was yelling at her. Its just been frustrating.

This coming week is going to be hellish too, because I have to meet with my new landlord Tuesday and do my lease, but I don't have the money for the deposit, because I'm getting it through a certain government agency, so I don't know if he'll rent the place to me. And then the very next day I have to go to Section Eight and tell them, yeah, I have an apartment, here's the lease. But if the new landlord won't rent it to me without the full deposit, then I may lose my section 8 funding and I waited for that for 4 years.

So its really fun to be me right now.

I also really wish "A" was here right now. I really need his support. I give him a bad rap in my diary sometimes, but he really is a nice person. He does a lot of extra curricular stuff that shrinks don't usually do, in terms of calling people he knows to make things run smoothly for me, trying to get help for me, even a lot of background stuff I don't know about. I've been seeing him for almost 10 years and he is really an extraordinary person. A pain in the ass sometime, but still a great person to have in your corner.

I did work our group this morning with "J". We had some leftover watermelon and cantaloupe from our picnic so "J" was studiously hacking it up in our company kitchen. I told him we were filming this for a segment on Martha Stewart's new show in September. He gave me the look. Guess I shouldn't tease anyone who's holding a large knife, huh?

We talked a lot about the picnic and the music. I guess "J" has a piano. I told him I would give him piano lessons if he wanted. I don't think he believed me. We then had to listen to the Vincent Gardenia guy talk endlessly about absolutely nothing. He's kinda like Rainman...a.fount of useless information. He knows the names of all the Popes and what year the French attacked a fort on Lake Champlain and how many people died in the battle and what the average temperature is in Edmonton and the average height of the oogo boogo tribe in the Amazon. He just never, ever stops talking. "J" does do a good job at controlling him. He'd talk the entire two hours if we let him.

So, someone else finally got a chance to talk and suddenly I hear this very faint noise and I look down and "J" is surreptitiously zipping up his shorts. Yikes. I didn't mean to stare, but.... Geeze. Couldn't help it. Whadda ya do when your coworker, sitting next to you, is zipping up his pants? Guess its better than zipping DOWN his pants like my employer last summer... the nanny guy.

Maybe he wasn't even conscious of it. Sometimes I put my hand on my zipper to make sure I'm zipped. Meh, I guess I'm just being my usual over reactive self since I'm stressed. Tra la!

I did go out to my favorite lake and walk 3 miles afterwards. It was very nice, but there were sure a lot of people swimming in illegal places. They have a large beach area with life guards, but I happened upon two sets of teenagers swimming first about a 1/4 mile from the beach and then the second pair of teenagers were swimming way up in the upper lake which is a good mile and a half from the life guards. I have never ever seen anyone swimming there, and I've been walking there for about 7 years. The lake is beautiful, but it is extremely deep and there are a lot of dead tree branches below the surface, which I would think, could entangle a swimmer very easily. I wanted to be all adult-like, in my skort, and say, "You know, you little snot nosed bastards, you shouldn't be swimming there, h-rrrrumppphh!" But I figured they'd kick my ass and probably throw me into the deep end. I just hope they were ok.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty