changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003
ms_pooka

new year's eve: i can remember this one.

i awoke with the anticipation that my chest cavity might not have shrunk enough over night. especially since i hadn’t taken any care to diet. and by that, i mean especially since i hadn’t taken any care not to eat like a starving horse.

i maintained high hopes for my clothing options for that eve and many eves thereafter. the anticipation mounted as we wound our way to ulta to return the perfume i had given brian for xmas. we wound our way even farther... into the depths of northern suburbia until i found myself whimpering “i want to get out of here”.

but i was looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

on that pot was inscribed the words: real waist jeans.

we arrived at the old navy containing a maternity section, once again tucked away in the children’s department where they assume anyone shopping for maternity wear will likely want to spend the rest of their productive years, i suppose.

i was immediately disappointed upon seeing the lack of selection as compared to the glorious six styles i had witnessed on the internet site. and, upon closer inspection, i was disappointed by the hang of the jeans and, more to the point, the line of elastic tucked into the back of the waistband.

i could already feel myself crashing and burning in a wasteland of disgusting clothing. but we trudged ahead and loaded my arms with the hope of possibility and sent me to the dressing room. i tried on the first item and immediately began cursing the old navy designers noticeably out loud. “how’d it go?”, you ask? do you see me carrying anything in my arms? those were an abomination! old navy is notorious for constructing pants with the most bizarre ass cut i’ve ever seen, but you would think they could cut a girl a break in maternity for god’s sake. and that shirt! plenty of room once it’s on. but how about a zipper or a button so i don’t feel like i’m being re-born just to crawl inside it?

fumes. they were coming out of my ears. and my nose. and the top of my head.

i was ready to cry.

instead, i drove to the nearest gas station and informed brian he was welcome to gas up my car.

the lengthy drive back to civilization gave me time to do what i do best: forget.

we arrived at our next trying destination: the galleria. at least i was mostly there to return something and actually receive some money. and i wasn’t even the least bit upset when i only purchased one of the many items i ended up trying on. at least it wasn’t maternity wear that was rejecting me.

my feet were now killing me, but we trudged ahead to the other end of the mall where the levi’s store was located so brian could get some pants that actually fit. i was astounded. and glad i wouldn’t have to hear him complain that his other pants made his hips look too blousy. it’s enough to make a pregnant lady with naturally wide hips become homicidal. big hips? i’ll show you big hips. just before i crush the life from you with them.

but i was too tired at this point for crushing.

i thought we were escaping for a pre-NYE-celebratory outing when brian spotted a new zara store and forced me to go in and spend over $100 i don’t have. all on non-maternity wear, of course. we made a quick stop over at dolly python where i picked up a red polyester sheath dress i had eyed the previous night during the dolly python pre-NYE soiree where we listened to john freeman on his electric guitar singing songs about dwarf porn and giants’ sperm pools and where brian purchased his fancy pony shirt. sadly, the tie-around-the-neck polyester pantsuit seemed to be already gone.

then we made it home. just in time for me to collapse on my couch and wait for my feet to re-plump and eat a handful of chocolate covered potato chips strictly for their intense rejuvenation properties. then i fell asleep for 15 minutes.

it was now time for a clothing parade.

i had decided, despite the lack of interest in fanciness by the other participants, to wear my golden vintage gown purchased in yesteryear and never worn despite the fact that early test drives had proven my ribs have expanded and i can barely breathe once zipped up.

this meant i had to also select an alternate outfit for post-dinner wear. the night was becoming terribly wearisome.

we finally made it out the door and to darren’s boyfriend’s luxurious digs in lakewood where E was already in waiting.

paul was the only sport willing to participate in my game of dress up and he greeted me from inside the confines of his kilt.

we sat down to chat over hummus and spicy nuts before progressing to dinner consisting of a fancy salad by darren containing asparagus, tomatoes, and grapefruit and a labor-intensive squash-wild rice-potato-corn-etc stew by paul. god damn it was fancy.

after some time, i noticed i had been holding myself in such a way that i could breathe a little better as my thorax began expanding and also in such a way that my back was all of a sudden killing me. i decided it was time to unzip and allow the precarious eye hook to keep the top of my dress from folding over on to the dinner table. eventually, as to be expected, during one of my countless forays into the bathroom, i flexed my shoulders the wrong way and busted through the tenous threads holding on to the hook.

time for the costume change.

darren finally managed to wrangle everyone away from the table conversation which included the announcement of E’s long-awaited engagement proposal and her conversation with a deaf woman who liked to loudly say “blow job” multiple times in a public place.

hank had finally been released from work and was free to join us for board-gamery including heated battles of taboo and scattergories. heated!

we barely remembered that it was, in fact, new year’s eve and we stopped long enough to pour champagne and toast it in and make kisses.

that’s right. i drank champagne. that’s alcohol! and it was nearly half a glass! A BIG GLASS!!!

we played until the wee hours and then i remembered that we had to be up early for adventures in tyler.

poo we were tired all of a sudden.




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this is a photo showcasing the baby brian is carrying. this hearkens back to his insane comments regarding his billowy hips and now belly. i will kill him soon.

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brian and darren. delightful. that’s all i’ve got to say about that.

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it’s a shame the face of this diminutive maine coon is being hidden. because he was devastatingly dashing. but in the meantime, enjoy the close up of those ponies.

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paul informed me that he is always prepared to have his photo taken. and it was true. despite the painfully long time it is required for me to convince my camera to go ahead and snap a photo.

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people kissed after midnight. i did too, but i was proper enough to not photograph it. i left that to others.

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post costume change. people were supposed to only photograph this number from the front. E did not pay attention to the rules. she was briskly reprimanded. her photos of the red dress will not be represented. should she ever send them.
Tags: darren, evelyn, new year's, parties
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