(Yes, I intended to write an entry for every day. Alas, my parents� net access died the day I got there, and thus I�m posting the paper journal entries I wrote instead a few weeks late. Sorry �bout that.)

12/26:

Oh, what a day.

Usually, Dec. 26 isn�t a big shopping day for our family, but there were a few things to take back, and then decided to take them back today, as well as do some shopping for business clothes for me.

I should explain here that I generally loathe business wear for women. Honestly, even if a skirt�s involved, blazers and such usually seem like they�re trying to turn women into men in an ugly fashion. One of the things I loved about my old job was that there was no real dress code beyond (a) don�t come into the office looking like crap, and (b) always wear something you could wear to an interview if you found out you had to do one today. Thongs, spiked blonde hair, jeans, Peanuts T-shirts and skimpy skirts are fairly common there. In other words, while I went in looking nice, and I did wear a lot of skirts and dresses, I wasn�t required to wear blazers and shoulder pads and heels every day.

Presumably, I won�t be so lucky in my new secretarial life, so hence I had to find the least ugly business clothes I could find. All I had in my closet before today that was businesswear was:

(a) One black pantsuit, shiny pants and a blazer with a velvet button and collar. I love it.

(b) A few ugly navy skirts and pants from high school fashion design competitions, which I had to wear with a white blouse and boiling red polyester blazer (uniform). Y�all wonder why I don�t like business clothes?

(c) Two blazer/jacket things, one pinkish-purple, one blue.

(d) Various random buttondown shirts.

So Mom ended up buying me well ... a TON of clothes. She got so carried away, I was shocked. She has a great time shopping, I gotta say. At the end of the LONG day, I had:

(a)red blazer

(b)red wrap skirt

(c)black wrap skirt

(d)white shell top

(e)black short dress

(f)blue buttondown shirt

(g)black short blazer

(h)black slacks

as well as the er, less businesslike:

(i)red flowered skirt

(j)green velvet top and pants

(k)pink/purple sweater

(l)Big Dog sweatshirt, "Queen of Everything."

(m)Big Dog sweatshirt, blue with big pockets (more on this later)

(n)long black dress with flowers and purple shirt

(o)glittery plaid shirt

We�re just shopping ho�s in this family, I�m not kidding.

We did that over the course of many hours and about four stops. In the morning we bought a-f, h-j, l and m. Mom originally bought m. as a gift for Dad, then realized on the way home she�d gotten the wrong size and would need to exchange it later. But for now (it was around 12:30 or so), we had to go home, as we all had eye doctor appointments�the first was at 1:40�and we had to eat. She called Dad, who made a request for Jack in the Crack.

Unfortunately, things then got ugly. When we reached the nearest JitB at 1 p.m., the drive-through line was surprisingly long. While about 1/3 of the way through the line, Mom got this bug up her ass that things would go a lot faster if we went inside and ordered at the counter. Specifically, that she should stay in line in the car while I went in and ordered at the counter and we�d see who was fastest.

And I um, had some issues with that. Namely, (a) the both of us didn�t have enough cash for both of us to be armed with while we waited, and (b) what would she do if I got done and she was stuck too far in the line to get out? Plus, I�d observed at my local JitB that the drive-in�s got their food faster than the counter folks. I didn�t see why she couldn�t just pull out of line and go in if she REALLY thought it�d be faster to go in than to wait. It�s one thing to do the double wait in the grocery store where we can SEE each other, but this?

However, I didn�t bother trying to say any of these reasons to her, I just said no. Truth be told, I don�t think it would have done any good, as I don�t think she�d think those reasons were good at all.

We ended up in a huge screaming fight about how I never do ANYTHING to help her and I won�t obey her when she asks me to do something and how selfish I am (true) and she does everything for me, especially today, and how I wouldn�t do this One Thing for her, so we could get the food faster and eat before we go to the doctor. (And don�t forget, Dad�s diabetic AND won�t eat when Mom�s not home. Guilt, guilt!) I felt like shit, and deserved to feel like shit. When we hit the point in line where we couldn�t exist, she pointed at one guy leaving the restaurant and yelled, "See! He went in when we got here and he�s already out!"

We ended up fighting all the way home about how I won�t either just shut up and obey them OR completely be in control of my life and make all my own decisions without help. There�s no third option, apparently. Or as she put it, "We suggest things, and you say no, so you know what you don�t want to do. But you never want to DO anything!"

I was in such a bad mood by then.

Suffice it to say that nobody got to eat before the eye doctor.

That actually went pretty well- I got out of the glaucoma "poof" test and getting my eyes dilated (I can�t stand anything going in my eyes), so I was happy. I saw a new eye doctor, as my old one has semi-retired or something, and he was very nice. He asked what I was up to, was I in school, and of course I had to explain the layoff situation. I usually explain it pretty cheerfully, but I don�t really like having to explain my lack of employment to every random person I run into. We also ran into some woman who used to work with Dad (she remembered me, I didn�t recall her much), and she asked how school was going. I stuck to "I finally graduated! Two degrees!" stuff.

After that, we went home and ate, then all three of us returned to the outlets/mall in Tracy (where we�d been all day) to ostensibly return the too-small sweatshirt for Dad.

Only instead ...

(a)Mom decided she wanted to shoe shop for Dad and I. She didn�t find anything for him, but did yell at me for not wanting a pair of "extremely comfortable" (her words) but "really ugly and I DON�T want to wear them in public" (my words) loafers.

When I met The Ex, he was (atypically) wearing loafers, and I was turned off at first. Those shoes may have utter comfort, but at least 6 out of 10 pairs I�ve seen are dog ugly.

(b)I really wanted to buy some books in the bookstore. I found two that I couldn�t find anywhere else, and a third book that looked intriguing, and if you bought three paperbacks you got the fourth free. I restrained myself. I hated doing it, I wanted those books, I still want them now�but I was a good girl. Can�t afford to start spending my money or I�ll never stop. I�m not even spending my Christmas gift money on gifts like I�m supposed to. Probably use it to pay bills. Joy.) It was a sad moment in the midst of this massive shopping trip to remember that I can�t spend my own money. And the parents say they can�t afford to pay my rent? Mom�s credit card bill must be huge.

(c)The really fun part, however, was trying to exchange Dad�s sweatshirt. They had agreed that Mom would exchange the shirt for a bigger size. When we walked/wheeled in, the guy behind the counter said that the credit machine was down. We�re all fine, we were just going to exchange, not take back ... and THEN Dad decides to throw a screaming fit right in the middle of the store, yelling that he doesn�t WANT another goddamn shirt, gift or not, and he wants her to take it back right now, which of course she can�t because the credit was down (hence why I got it). Ain�t nothing so pleasant as a man in a wheelchair (who can�t speak at all articulately) screaming in squeals and moans and roars at your mother in public, lemme tell ya. I was so embarrassed. He kept on screaming and bitching on the way out, and I was tempted to say something like "I could dump your ass out of this chair, you know. I can�t drive for shit, it could happen." He at least shut up by the time we hit the mall, and I ended up acquiring the rest of the clothes on that list.

The world�s most annoying bimbo girls were in the dressing room with me at Gottschalks, and I just wanted to kill them. They kept screaming and squealing at each other over various boys named Jeremy. (Note to self: If I ever go insane and have a son, skip naming him Jeremy. It�s a cute name, but there�s enough of them out there as is.) Now I used to think I was quite the ditzy bimbo growing up (until I had to live with some REAL bimbos who disabused me of the notion), and lord knows I could squeal and gossip about the boys, but these girls made me want to go over to Mom and apologize for my bimbo years, they were so over-the-top awful.

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