Once again, my weekend was all about shopping. Well, mainly doing errands and buying stuff that I just can't get done in town.

It occurred to me this weekend that my parents really do live in the 1950's. I say that sarcastically a lot, but man, they really do. Like this remark from Mom this weekend: "Why would anyone listen to songs with dirty words in them? Why? Who does this appeal to? This music doesn't help people!" Even worse was when she asked what kind of music Dave listens to, and I suddenly got a horrible vision of them sitting together listening to Insane Clown Posse. Oy fucking vey!

I was supposed to get my hair redyed Saturday morning, but when we got there, we found out my hairdresser had called in with the flu. Fortunately, someone else volunteered to do the job, but she was free after 3:30. So I spent most of the morning sitting around while my parents did the errands they were going to do while I was at the hairdresser's. This turned out to be all kinds of fun when my mom was trying to wheel my dad down a curb and he just tumbled out of the wheelchair. We're lucky his head didn't ram into the car, it was so close. Freaked everyone out. I didn't know what to do, as usual, beyond gathering everything dropped. Mom said she saw it in slow motion, wondering "What's he doing there?", while it gave me flashbacks to falling down when I had a broken leg. After that she said it showed he neither has the physical capability or mental capability to stop himself from falling. *sigh* She said when she gets to heaven, she wants to ask God why, because she can deal with the physical crap, but his lack of intellegible speech is what really bothers her. Amen to that.

I also waited around while Mom went card shopping. Much to my utter fucking shock, she bought nearly $200 worth of Valentine's Day cards. The woman doesn't even mail Christmas cards, and yet she did that for Valentine's? Nutso. She made me buy cards too even though I don't like card-buying that much. Though I ended up getting a watch out of the deal- they had Italian charms on sale and watches in the case, and one of them looked almost exactly like the Italian glass jewelry I got for Christmas this year. So uh, early birthday present. Plus she got a few charms for herself and one for me. I put most of my charms onto the watch, since I wear it more often than my bracelet, but... honest to God, whoever designed how these things go together is a sicko. It took me hours to get them all on in the right configuration.

After that I got my hair redyed- it's mostly all blonde now since the hairdresser just did only one of the colors for some reason. It looks good though. Though lord, that took what, 2 1/2 hours just for roots? No wonder I only go to get this done once a season or so.

I also got my boots re-heeled. This one should probably get a little explanation: during the winter, I either wear (a) black knee-length boots- dressy for work, match everything, plus I don't have to worry about matching goddamned socks, or (b) blue suede hiking boots- less appropriate for work, don't match everything, must match socks. I have two pairs of the black boots I acquired in two different places, I think. Anyway, I wore one pair at the parents' house and uh, noticed that the heels were now two different heights. Don't ask me how that happened. Mom was all "hey, you could leave those here and I could take them to a guy I know," and I said fine. Well, when he got them, he was all, "Do you have another pair of these?" I apparently own two pairs of the same boot, just made out of slightly different feeling material. And had been wearing one shoe from each pair. Yes, I am an idiot! (Even worse? This is not the first time I've done this with shoes, either. I'm talking other pairs, here.)

At any rate, I now have two pairs of boots again, that hopefully I won't slip on, and even manage to have treads on the heels now. Woot!

And after all of that, I still needed to get new bras for my enormous fucking tits. Seriously, I fit into one of my bras without falling out of it any more, and it makes me cry. Though what made me cry even more was to realize that now I'm a 36D. A fucking D cup. I liked having C tits, dammit. Also, once you get out of the C cups? They no longer make pretty bras for you. No colors, no nothing but old-lady creeping-crud lace. I managed to snag a red bra (miracle) and two bras that had some kind of fake diamond on the center, but other than that, dullsville. God, I did not want D-size tits. I guess genetics had to have its way, though. Argh. And even worse? My enormous tits don't even fit into lingerie any more. My mother bought more lingerie for Valentine's Day than I could. GAH. Damn birth control hormones. At least I found some regular clothes too. Lord, I cannot wait for warm weather. (No rain predicted for this week! Yet! Can we hope?)

Anyway, it was good to get that stuff taken care of, even if I didn't get my homework done at all. Not only did I not make it online from their house because I was hardly home, I found out when I got back that a month after I paid for my online classes, they said they couldn't take the payment because the bank did something wrong and I had to repay. I had wondered why it had never shown up on my bank statements, but since other things are missing from the aforementioned bank statements... plus, it took them a MONTH to notice? I'm confused.

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