Tonight I needed (and I mean that literally) to go to Wal Mart to buy some Silk Almond Milk. I was totally out and I had to drink a Visalus Shake for my supper. (What is Visalus? you wonder. Another story for another time.)
(Now, remember as you read this, I am still having LOTS of trouble with my bum knee.) Picture this, Sept. 9, 2011...6 o'clockish...older lady (me) pulling her right leg along so she can hurry into Wally World and get the milk and get home. (Today, I've eaten: 1 shake, small bag of popcorn, 1/2 chicken strip, and a diet Green Tea.) A ravenous wolf and I have much in common at this point.
Granddaughter needs some new jeans, so I roll the buggy over to the Juniors Jeans aisle, find the jeans and turn toward the milk (in the furthermost corner of WM...grrrrr.) All at once, I had this overpowering desire to look at jeans for myself. Eureka! After an archaeological dig...I find some (in several sizes) and load them in the buggy and head for the dressing room. The young woman who lets me into the dressing room, keeps calling me "Baby"... sort of irritating. (As a side note: A Plus Size that sticks the word Petite on the end of the number is an oxymoron. Why not just say XXXL/ Short or Very Plump/ Not Very Tall or XXXL/Vertically Challenged or anything but Petite.) I digress...
You know that exhilarating feeling you have when you lose weight? The one that makes you feel like you can tackle the universe and look great while doing so? Just plain giddy! I have, after all, lost 12 big ones... the equivalent to 12 cartons of margarine! Surely, I am small enough to get in some straight legged, button up and zippered jeans. (There are none so blind as those who will NOT see.)
I start the trying on process with the smallest size. I can't lift my right leg, so I try to position myself against the door and all at once I sort of fall, catch myself, but not before a loud "thump" echoes through the dressing rooms. I right myself, try again, and once again, "thump"...."Baby?" I hear someone shout, "You ok in there?" "Yes, just fine, thanks," I mutter.
After the third attempt, I decide to sit down and try to put my right leg in first. But I can't sit on that seat thing...no telling who or what's been on it. So I position my purse and try to sit on it without breaking anything (in my purse..lol)...and I finally get my foot in the jeans leg...other leg goes in without too much trouble. The problem begins when I stand to pull the darn things up. They go up to my, well, my calf. I struggle..."thump"..."bigger thump"... "Everything ok, Baby?"...."Yes," I gasp.
This will never do. So I start the process of removing the jeans which by now are beginning to cut off my circulation. I need a spatula or a paint scraper. I finally peel that pair off and begin the process all over. Same song, second verse with the next size up. I get them on without the previous drama...however, they are 6 inches too long...petite, my foot...and well, not having elastic in the waist for the first time in years is a little disconcerting. I wrestle with the button and finally get it "latched"...turn to look at myself in the mirror (I don't have a full length mirror in my home. I threw it out years ago...I use the shower door as my mirror. You'd be surprised how great you look in a shower reflection.) Well, lo and behold, what in the world? Let me put it this way...have you ever seen a triple muffin top in person? If not, let me enlighten you...it ain't a pretty sight. The top half of "me" looked like one of those balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade lined up for launch. HOWEVER, the jeans looked half way decent. (But not decent enough to actually wear in public.) I considered just buying them as an incentive...but I've been down that road before. My attic is full of "Wish I could wear this boxes". So I took them off and put them back on the shelf...but I did feel somewhat encouraged. Maybe some day soon...maybe elastic won't always be like a bad cold that won't go away.
I purchased my milk and a new decorating magazine...and as my friend, Miss Anonymous said as I was retelling her my adventure...."now THAT'S something you CAN get into!!" (Personally I think she was a little jealous that I ALMOST got jeans with NO elastic in the waist...but don't tell her that!)
(Now, remember as you read this, I am still having LOTS of trouble with my bum knee.) Picture this, Sept. 9, 2011...6 o'clockish...older lady (me) pulling her right leg along so she can hurry into Wally World and get the milk and get home. (Today, I've eaten: 1 shake, small bag of popcorn, 1/2 chicken strip, and a diet Green Tea.) A ravenous wolf and I have much in common at this point.
Granddaughter needs some new jeans, so I roll the buggy over to the Juniors Jeans aisle, find the jeans and turn toward the milk (in the furthermost corner of WM...grrrrr.) All at once, I had this overpowering desire to look at jeans for myself. Eureka! After an archaeological dig...I find some (in several sizes) and load them in the buggy and head for the dressing room. The young woman who lets me into the dressing room, keeps calling me "Baby"... sort of irritating. (As a side note: A Plus Size that sticks the word Petite on the end of the number is an oxymoron. Why not just say XXXL/ Short or Very Plump/ Not Very Tall or XXXL/Vertically Challenged or anything but Petite.) I digress...
You know that exhilarating feeling you have when you lose weight? The one that makes you feel like you can tackle the universe and look great while doing so? Just plain giddy! I have, after all, lost 12 big ones... the equivalent to 12 cartons of margarine! Surely, I am small enough to get in some straight legged, button up and zippered jeans. (There are none so blind as those who will NOT see.)
I start the trying on process with the smallest size. I can't lift my right leg, so I try to position myself against the door and all at once I sort of fall, catch myself, but not before a loud "thump" echoes through the dressing rooms. I right myself, try again, and once again, "thump"...."Baby?" I hear someone shout, "You ok in there?" "Yes, just fine, thanks," I mutter.
After the third attempt, I decide to sit down and try to put my right leg in first. But I can't sit on that seat thing...no telling who or what's been on it. So I position my purse and try to sit on it without breaking anything (in my purse..lol)...and I finally get my foot in the jeans leg...other leg goes in without too much trouble. The problem begins when I stand to pull the darn things up. They go up to my, well, my calf. I struggle..."thump"..."bigger thump"... "Everything ok, Baby?"...."Yes," I gasp.
This will never do. So I start the process of removing the jeans which by now are beginning to cut off my circulation. I need a spatula or a paint scraper. I finally peel that pair off and begin the process all over. Same song, second verse with the next size up. I get them on without the previous drama...however, they are 6 inches too long...petite, my foot...and well, not having elastic in the waist for the first time in years is a little disconcerting. I wrestle with the button and finally get it "latched"...turn to look at myself in the mirror (I don't have a full length mirror in my home. I threw it out years ago...I use the shower door as my mirror. You'd be surprised how great you look in a shower reflection.) Well, lo and behold, what in the world? Let me put it this way...have you ever seen a triple muffin top in person? If not, let me enlighten you...it ain't a pretty sight. The top half of "me" looked like one of those balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade lined up for launch. HOWEVER, the jeans looked half way decent. (But not decent enough to actually wear in public.) I considered just buying them as an incentive...but I've been down that road before. My attic is full of "Wish I could wear this boxes". So I took them off and put them back on the shelf...but I did feel somewhat encouraged. Maybe some day soon...maybe elastic won't always be like a bad cold that won't go away.
I purchased my milk and a new decorating magazine...and as my friend, Miss Anonymous said as I was retelling her my adventure...."now THAT'S something you CAN get into!!" (Personally I think she was a little jealous that I ALMOST got jeans with NO elastic in the waist...but don't tell her that!)
Hope your jeans always button on the first try,
5 comments:
Oh, what a visual!! That's a great story! And most of all, congratulations on the loss!! Good job!!
Oh my....you tell a good story, Baby! heeheehee! But don't be discouraged...you WILL heal and you WILL find some jeans you like! It's a challenge but losing the weight it a great start! I lost weight this past year and I waited until it was off for awhile before I bought new clothes. It's a lot more fun buying them now that I've lost what I needed. Sometimes it's still hard to 'try on' clothes in those small dressing rooms though! And I don't buy clothes at Walmart...they never fit right! Enjoy your weekend! Be good to yourself...DECORATE! ♥
I am laughing so hard that i am crying! I can just see it! Love you!
I am giggling and dabbing the tears of laughter off my cheeks!!! 12 big ones! Yippee!
Take care of that knee and keep it up with the diet. You'll be one skinny, sexy mama before you know it. Nonnie
have mercy, girlfriend.
YOU crack me up!
and my jeans never button on the first try;)
love you!
Post a Comment