So, 8 has always been a lucky number for me.  Actually, I have no idea if that has any basis whatsoever in reality; what I should say is that I have always fancied the idea that 8 might be a lucky number for me, since there are so many of them in my birthday.  8-28-81, born at 8:08 am, in room something-oh-eight.  Today, a miracle occurred.  I fit my booty into a size 8 pair of jeans.  And comfortably too.  I had a 10 on, and consulted Nik on the size, and she said, "Dude, they're too big."  The natural skeptic in me emerged, "They can't be too big, they're a ten."  To which Nik sighed in mild frustration, (you know the kind of sigh you get from a friend when you are complaining about how you are too fat/thin/tall/short/stupid/ugly, or have weird feet/bad hair/weak nails/[        ] -- it was that sigh) and then she disappeared from the fitting rooms only to return toting two pairs of size 8 jeans in her arms. 
Unfolding them with immense doubt, I was fully expecting not to be able to fit them over my thighs, because, being the deliciously curvy gal that I have always been, I often have trouble with jeans in that area.  Yet they met the thighs and kept on going, at which point I fully expected to be unable to zip them up.  Somehow they zipped up no problem, and there I stood in the first pair of size 8 pants I've been able to get into since I was 19.  That's almost 5 years people.  I had to try the second pair just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, and those fit too.  And then I got to buy a $58 pair of jeans for $20 because I work at the Gap.  And to think I've been thinking of quitting.  All told, not a bad way to end a rough week. 
Although I will say that in spite of my alternate rage and sadness, I am a person who believes in second chances when asked for.  And when a boy I love apologizes and says, "Will you be my girl again?" by a campfire that lights up his blue eyes like none I have ever seen, it's impossible for me to say no.  So I said yes, and maybe you're thinking I'm silly for risking my heart again, but life is about risks, especially if it's a risk you take in order to try to get something amazing.  Plus, who the hell does he think he's messing with anyways?  I am from Southfield.   He knows I will key his car and slash all four of his tires if he breaks my heart again.  (So, so, so kidding on that one!)  And then my Daddy threw in a death threat, just for posterity.  (Still kidding, but not quite as much....) Ha ha ha!
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
You go ahead with your bad, size 8 wearing self! :) I SOOO know how that feels. Congrats to you!
You'd better call to help me understand this post... ;)
Love, S
Yay for second chances! :0) Tell him to treat you right or the 1201 girls will come help you key his car. ;0)
PS: Congrats on the jean purchase! I told ya something good would happen! Sounds like there were a couple good things happening!
Love you...
Post a Comment