CONFERENCE PREPERATION WOES

BLUSH AND CRINGE

I got lighty up shoes on clearance (Wal-mart or K-mart maybe?) for 4 dollars. They look like a little glass slipper (plastic) and the heels light up when you step. I thought they'd be perfect for the awards ceremonies.

Then I went to the store to look for a pair of those undies that squish your belly in. All I could find was a pair the color of murky mudpuddle water. We're not talking black lace or white satin here. So of course I flung them at the beginning of my line of items so the cashier would ring them in first in case anybody came behind me and saw the hideous (and gigantic) things. The evil woman let everything else pass by first and wouldn't you know it...two good-looking guys and three people I know came to that line behind me. So then she holds them WAAAY up, turns them around for the world to see, says, "Can't find a tag." Calls for a manager to do a price check so now there are like fifteen people in line behind me because it's late and we're the only lane open and Evil Cashier is STILL holding those murky tan-brown girdle panties up. Manager's busy so of course it took forever for me to be able to flee the wretched scene. M-barrassing!

SO then I get home, wash them and try them on......

Ugh. Have you ever tried to stuff an elephant into a rubber band that is oh, say TEN sizes too small? So then after sweating to death, jumping up and down six hundred times and using a pair of vice grips to tug them on...realized I'd never be able to get them off to go to the bathroom. Not only that, but they were cutting off the circulation in both of my legs and you can clearly see the line even with my skirt on where they're attempting to severe your legs at the top of your thigh. So much for the girdle-grannypanties. Six bucks and I had to go through the embarrassment of calling dh to come cut them off with his razor knife, all the while he's snickering and asking me, "WHAT were those. . .those. . .THINGS?" and looking at them as if they'd been dipped in Anthrax.

Oh well. I guess it's back to the old sit ups. Or in my case. . .sit up.

I keep telling my size 1 neices, "Don't be anorexic, but don't let yourselves get to be a blimp either because this is the sort of trauma you have to deal with." LOL! Squirrel