I? applied for a job transfer. the clothes that I have now? are perfect for my current job, but not dressy enough for my hopeful. so I decided to be optimistic and look for a new suit. I went online and found 7 suits at Pennies that I absolutely loved. and I was beyond excited to actually get to the store to find the perfect one.
tonight? I went suit shopping. I picked out two of the seven suits to try. and I grabbed three sizes: the size I wanted to be, the size I thought I actually was, and the size I hoped to god I wasn't.
the first? unsurprisingly couldn't be zipped up. the second? closer, but not quite there. the third? the top fit perfectly and the pants rode up my ass crack. *le sigh* so, I resigned myself that I would have to try the offically fat sizes. the dreaded "w" sizes. (by the way...what does "w" stand for, anyway? wide load? walrus ass? eh?) and those? the top was like wearing a freaking bag and the bottoms....bagged in the belly area. meh. and also? the bottoms AGAIN rode up my ass crack. what.the.fuck. I was offically humiliated...devastated....demoralized. apparantly, I am built like a freak.
I spent the entire ride home...
you know the other day, when I couldn't find clothes that fit and I convinced myself I was just freakishly shaped? well, I went back and bought the suit I wanted because only the pants didn't fit and I already had a pair of black pants I could use with it. just for shits and giggles? I tried the suit pants on again, and they fit just as oddly. harump. and then I took a closer look and realized...
I put them on backwards. I put them on backwards. SIX TIMES trying them on...I PUT THEM ON BACKWARDS. holy hell. but seriously? in my 30 + years experience wearing pants? the damn zipper always goes in the front. who the fuck makes pants that zip in the back? outrageous.
Doug
got our Rush tickets last night! and we're actually in seats and center to the stage. 
sooo...last night we had a Rush jam. and while they have waaayyy too much music for me to pick a favorite, this song at least explains my life philosophy.
Doug is in the process of getting Scuba certified. and because he loves me, he wants me to join him so I can enjoy it too. and because I am claustrophobic...I don't wanna do it. LOL so I told him I'd be perfectly fine sitting in the boat, sun tanning and reading and watching his bubbles. and that when I stopped seeing his bubbles? I would pull on that rope he's going to attach himself to and get his ass to the surface and then? I would be a hero! I would save the day!!
when that argument didn't work (and I knew it wouldn't) I told him that there was nothing under the water that I couldn't watch on the Discovery Channel. and when that argument didn't work? I told the truth...I was terrified at even the THOUGHT of being 20 feet under water trusting my life to something as simple as Scuba gear. hells no!!! but even THAT argument didn't work. hrmm. think, Liz, think! and then I had my moment of brilliance.
"I have always wanted to try sky diving. I tell you what...if you go jump out of a plane with me, I will go scuba diving with you."
and my man, him whom I adore above all others, who is afraid of heights, gave me exactly the answer I was looking for..."only if the pilot jumps out first!!!" argument over. I will not be Scuba diving, thank god. oh, but then....