i hope you're the skee-ball type

i sometimes wonder if i'm going to have to turn in my membership card to the club-of-girl, because i am such an utter failure at shopping. plus, i detest it as an activity almost as much as i dislike tea. something about the fluorescent lighting, the prepubescent shopgirls, the endless lines into the fitting rooms. no, doesn't fit into my vastly impatient view of the world and my drive to maintain my self-respect and -esteem.

see, i went on an expedition today, searching for the perfect little skirt for the show of ultimate infamy. something 'wildly inappropriate' without stumbling over into 'skank ho.' needless to say, i was met with no success. (everything was on the wrong side of that dividing line, or burberry plaid. not so much, as they say in the trade). though i did get caught in a charming little tempest and become entirely too well acquainted with my ass. coupled with the no-makeup look i was rocking and the frizzy hair, it was a shivery incognito day, and not a pretty sight. particularly, particularly after the scowl i developed after a nasty old man told me he'd walk me home tonight, and any other night i wanted. ech.

but. all was not lost. as always, the proper company, with which i was entrusted for the rest of the weekend, makes everything so much nicer.