Tights from Ross

I have been meaning to get some good tights to wear to work lately. It's freezing outside but I always wear skirts to work for lack of work pants. Even when I'm wearing boots, there is a vulnerable region of leg left exposed from my mid-calf to the top of my knees. In the fall this was fine... but now it's unbearable.

So, thinking I was being ridiculously clever and frugal... I decided to buy tights at Ross. I'm not made of rubies OKAY?!?

I searched through the socks and tights section for seriously at least an hour before settling on a couple pairs. I didn't want tights that were too see-through, or a weird color, or a weird design, let ALONE the peril of too-small tights.

Too small, you ask? Aren't tights stretchy, you say?

Yes. They are. But there comes a point where the tights are just too tight or too short to pull up all the way..... and Ross is not super keen on organizing their tights by size. Nevertheless, I was fairly certain that I had been victorious.

After paying for my super cheap and awesome tights... I stole away to go home and try them on. What would the world be like if we could try tights on before buying them? It would be a creepy place. I don't want to buy any item of clothing if someone ELSE has already stretched it over their body like skin. Gew. Double shudder.

As I tried on each pair of tights... I realized that Ross had fooled me. The size label on the package didn't match any of the tights. And, I know I'm not just making excuses... because one of the pairs in a two-pack was actually a pair of Ralph Lauren tights... and the other pair was who-knows-what brand.... and neither of those brands were the brand listed on the label. So, I basically searched for tights for an HOUR just to buy the wrong size anyway. Awesome. The other pack was the same story. CURSE YOU ROSS! ... just kidding. I love you.
So... the tights-trying went a little something like this:

1st pair..... No brand.... floral design. EXCEPT. All floral designs kind of look the same before you put the tights on so you have no idea what you are actually getting. I was lucky enough to get some sort of weird tribal-cheetah design. And they were too small. Which exacerbated the problem. It looked like I had Mike Tyson tattoos all over my legs. Sick.


2nd pair..... Ralph lauren.... Fit like a dream. Of course they do, Ralph. Of course. Bless you.

3rd pair... No brand. Too short. Mary Poppins penguin pants crotch syndrome. No Bueno.


4th pair.... Weird color. I thought gray tights would be cute. But.... they are completely opaque. So I looked like the gray-leggins jogger. The gray-leggins jogger is some guy that jogs around provo wearing nothing but extremely tight heather-gray leggings and a shirt. It scars my soul every time I see him. One time he jogged right past me on the sidewalk and it was one of the most awkward social experiences of my life. LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS, GRAY LEGGINGS JOGGER!

The moral of the story is... don't buy 4 pairs of tights at ross instead of buying one pair of nice tights... because you will spend the same amount of money and still only get one pair that works.

The Magical Thing from Pinterest.

Okay... so... There is this thing floating around on pinterest claiming that dawn dish soap and hydrogen peroxide can remove yellow stains from white shirts.



I am here to tell you that this claim is completely and utterly TRUE.

I tried it. Just like the lady's blog said I should... go HERE .

And the yellow deoderant stains disappeared. It really. was. magic.

Maybe you don't care because your genetics don't predispose you to overactive sweat glands... but mine sure do.

I did notice that the older the shirt was... the harder it was to get it completely clean... but just the fact that MOST of the stain was gone on my ancient undershirts amazed me.

So. Go forth and remove your pit stains.

This actually wasn't on the list of things I need to blog about....

At one point on the freeway today, I was surrounded by 4 or 5 huger-than-necessary trucks. At first I was disgusted.... but rather than continue to judge the likely wasteful and lamesauce drivers... I began to imagine what those huge trucks might actually be needed for. I came up with the following list of legitimate reasons to own a HUGE arse truck. All other excuses are bull crap.

Huge truck legitimacy:

1. The driver is literally 8 or 9 feet tall. I wouldn't judge Yao if he stepped out of one of those.

2. The driver lives on a farm and uses the truck to do farm-like activities such as hauling huge quantities of hay, or maybe a small livestock trailer. I support agrarian America.

3. The driver has invested heavily (get it?) in gold bars, and, not trusting anyone, routinely re-hides his stash of gold in various locations to keep it safe. It takes a big truck to move that much gold that regularly. (Ron Swanson?)

4. The driver has recently adopted a baby elephant with significant medical issues, and must use his huge truck as a means of taking the giant pup to and from doctor visits. Bless his heart.

5. The driver made that truck himself, for free, and it happens to run on fairy dust, which is also free and doesn't pollute the planet.

6. The driver owns a large sea vessel that can only be towed with an gargantuan vehicle. Like a Spanish-galleon sized vessel.

7. The driver is very, very short and has a rare medical condition which requires him to drive standing up.

8. The driver is an avid civil-war reenacter who owns a few cannons and likes to take them out on the town every now and then.


That's all I got. I'm going to go out on a limb and say my freeway-mates don't fall into any of those categories. But... imagining a baby elephant in the back of one of them kept me from hating them all while I drove. So... it's fine.



Note: your truck probably shouldn't look bigger than your house. Ever.



It's been really difficult for me to refrain from using a certain word in this post. It rhymes with "swoosh-bag" ... I'm tempted... but I'm really trying to quit. Anyway, those are classic swoosh-bag tires.



The homey driving is wearing white sunglasses. The mark of the swoosh. Ps forget his license plate number...



I'm sorry... is that a tiny bass boat? Ya............................................. No.

It's sad. k BYE.

So many things I want to blog about...

BUT I DON'T HAVE TIME.

This blog is a place holder..... for blogs on the following subjects:

Rogue altos in the christmas program

Tights that are supposed to fit.

Guys who work at pharmacies

Taking Finals

Idiot things boys have said to me

Super offensive relief society activity

QUILTING MANIACALLY

Wearing socks when it's cold... and other such wintry things

My new life plan

Christmas times

The thing from pinterest that worked fo real

A tribute to my 400th post 18 posts ago

Black friday fabric shopping

And.... whatever else I think of. It'll happen some day. 

This is probably what it feels like to be completely high.

This is a really long blog.

Sunday night / Monday morning I woke up with a horrible migraine. I don't know if any of you have ever been shaken from your slumber by something that feels like a porcupine had babies in your brain, but it really was not a pleasant experience. I was awake from like 2 something in the morning until 5 something in the morning. At first I was so tired that I didn't really understand what was happening, and had no reasoning skills... so I didn't take any medicine for like an hour. It's like when you have to pee in the middle of the night but you hope the feeling will just go away because you are too tired to pee. It always ends the same way. You wet the bed. Just kidding. Hopefully you don't. I never have. Anyway. It always ends up that I eventually get out of my bed to go to the bathroom, but only after I have been trying to avoid it for an hour. And then I'm all cranky because instead of losing 5 minutes of sleep I've lost a lot more trying to ignore my bladder.

Anyway. It was kind of like that. So when I finally turned on my light to find some headache medicine, I beheld a mammoth arachnid building a fort on my wall behind my lamp. I hadn't seen any spideys for a while because Gma and Gpa Booth gave me a no-pest strip that pretty much bombed them all a couple weeks ago, but I lent it to a friend who ALSO lives in a basement.

Long story short, I panicked so I grabbed my aerosol hairspray and started spraying. I felt kind of like Mr. Freeze because the nasty nast was soon encased in an ice-like maximum hold shell. Then he fell off the wall. I was satisfied. I then took 1000 miligrams of generic Tylenol, gave the spider an extra spray for good measure, emailed my boss to tell her I might be late the next morning, and got back into bed.

I woke up about an hour and a half after my shift at work began, but my headache was gone so I jumped out of bed and got to work quicker than I usually do.

I had a ton of energy, and I was in a really good mood. I stayed a little late after work to make up some hours, and then went to my first class which I enjoyed immensely. Right after class I decided to go to the grocery store because I had nothing to eat.

That's when things got a little weird.

For whatever reason, I bought two six-packs of Ramen, two boxes of oatmeal, protein shakes (for which I had a coupon) and some cabbage.

This is abnormal. I think my thought was that I needed to spend as little money as possible, and that I wanted Ramen, but it wasn't nutritious enough, so I bought some shredded cabbage to put in it? Abnormal. Oh. I also bought a toffee almond symphony bar because I just felt like it okay!?

Anyway. I went home and made Ramen (with cabbage) and ate it. It wasn't too bad. That was abnormal as well.

I went to my second class, met with  my group for a group project... and then I went to buy gummy bears in preparation for our FHE gingerbread house competition. They only had sour gummy worms... so... I ate them all in the car on the way to FHE. That actually wasn't abnormal. When we got there, my roommate and I decided to make a pyramid out of graham crackers. I kept failing, so I then spent a considerable amount of time making a camel out of lemon heads, red vines, and toothpicks. Slightly abnormal. But not completely.

I then drove off to target on a whim looking for no pest strips. I found none. I then stared at a jumbo sized lint roller, debating whether or not I needed it, for far too long. No seriously. For like 10 minutes. This was abnormal. Even for a migraine brain.

I finally ditched my cart and the lint roller and went to Walmart instead. Got spidey killer. I got home... parked my car and finished the burger I had picked up on the way home. BUT instead of going into my house, I started driving to the grocery store because I had an intense desire to eat a chocolate pudding pie. This kind:

 
Although I do love these and have since childhood, this was also abnormal.

Sooooooo I went to smiths for the second time... and even though I had an awesome parking spot... Smith's did not have any home run pies. Since my gas light had been on for an unknown amount of time, I stopped at the smith's gas station sans home run pie to fill up. This was not abnormal.

This is when things got really, really weird. 

I pulled up to a gas pump on the passenger side of my car, but then I thought to myself: "I am crazy, the gas pump is on the driver's side... duh" so without getting out to look, I drove over and repositioned my car next to a different pump. But that felt wrong, because I suddenly remembered that the gas tank is on the driver's side on all my parent's cars... but not on my car. So I turned around and pulled up to the THIRD gas pump of the night and pumped my gas. This was abnormal. It also took me a very long time to position my car parallel to the pump.

As I was pumping my gas, I began to reflect upon my strange behavior. As I got into my car, still reflecting, I shut my messy-bun in my car door. I don't know how I managed to do that without causing myself great cranial harm, but I did. That was really weird. I freed my hair and collected my thoughts.

After that I decided it would be a good idea to go home. So I went home again. But then I pulled away from my house because I knew I would not be happy until I had eaten a dang chocolate pie. Leaving home for the second time without getting out of my car was doubly abnormal.

I instinctively headed towards Smith's, until I realized that I had just been there like 15 minutes ago. So then I started heading toward the university mall because my little fried sleep deprived brain had this thought: "I'm sure there is a grocery store up that way that will have chocolate pudding pies".... Which was abnormal, because I knew there were no grocery stores in that direction. As I was passing olive garden I realized that what I was doing was ridiculous because it was 10:20 at night and I had been aimlessly driving around looking for pest strips and chocolate pies for over an hour. So. I headed back home.

But then I stopped at Maceys... because I wanted a freaking miniature chocolate pie. And of course... I couldn't find any. And I hate maceys. So that was even more abnormal than it already was. I crankily grabbed a bag of chocolate covered pretzels and made my way home. This was the first rational decision I had made for hours.

Halfway to my home I was almost half way through the bag (the kind that has 5 servings). ... and I realized I wasn't even hungry and they didn't even taste good. When I made it to my house.. I parked in front and still tried to eat the pretzels. And then I got grossed out so I took the last handful of pretzels out of the bag and spit out a mouthful of partially chewed pretzels back into the bag. This was abnormal.

But then I realized my logic had failed me, because I was left with a handful of pretzels and no where to put them but my mouth. So I started eating them again. And then I started getting grossed out again, so I once again spit them out into the bag. This was again, extremely abnormal.

And then I came inside. And I thought I should document this day. Because it was so, so very strange. Seriously.

*****

I wrote that blog post last night. But don't be fooled. I spent a considerable amount of time today decoding it in a way that the non-brain-dead population could understand. 

Thank you and goodnight.