A Love/Hate Relationship.

I have learned patience over time from one activity and one activity only: shopping. School shopping is a fab time of year...for most people. Parents are eager to ship off their kids to teachers, kids are ready to shop for their new wardrobe, and there's an air of excitement in the stores...for MOST PEOPLE. I have never been one of these excited people. School shopping only reminds me that I am abnormally sized compared to what most shoppers are.

Let me splain.

Pants shopping. Apparently the 5'10"-no-curve look is very rare as most pants are too short and have fabric hanging off my boyish shape. And let's not forget that in order to find A pair of pants that fit, I have to try on an AVERAGE of 10. Ask my sister or my mom...they understand the agony of me and my nemisis: the fitting room.

Shirt shopping. In addition to the struggle to clothe my long legs, finding shirts that are not about to split their seems across my athletic shoulders YET ALSO do not give the impression that I am pregnant is a challenge of olympic proportion. Where are these skinny armed girls? Are there no athletes who have a day job?

AND THE ULTIMATE WOE: shoes. I love shoes as much as the next girl. But I have been blessed with big feet. You know what they say about girls with big feet? They wear flip flops because 90% of the shoes in the stores are sizes 7-8-9. Oye. I don't usually pick my shoes; they pick me. That is, I have to select styles because they actually have my size.

I've seen women like me...and we're wearing the same clothes and shoes. Is it possible that the fashion industry is stuck in a time warp? Do they not realize that women are bigger now? Maybe I just have to become famous so designers will make clothes that fit me.

Note to self: Start a support group for "unaverage" women. Rent a stadium for the meetings.

Shopping Phenomena

I am always amazed by human nature. Our accomplishments, creativity, abilities, and cultures are unbelievable considering that we also have some of the dumbest actions, beliefs, and behaviors on this planet.

These dumb actions can be seen regularly at one location in particular: the mall. The mall appears to be a haven for idiot behavior. I swear, people will do things in malls that would not occur anywhere else on Earth. So here goes: Mall Observations, Take 1.

• Whilst I wait for my mango bubble tea, I am amazed at the tenacity passers-by have for the thimble-sized sample tray by the register. Not only will these thirsty shoppers wait in anger for the tray to be refilled, but they will push you out of their blood thirsty way for a taste of sugary heaven in the center kiosk of the mall. WTF!
• The pace of shoppers from store to store varies along the spectrum of slowness. It never ceases to amaze me that some people not only want to challenge the tortoise to a race, BUT they want to walk in lines of 4-6 such as to take up the entire walkway. I know that shopping is therapeutic, and for some of these poor souls, this walk down and back is the only form of exercise their saggy bodies see in a week, but sheesh! Step aside! I'm going to hazzard a guess that these are also those retards that drive -10 mph in the left lane.
• There is also a special place for the stoppers. You know who these mo-fo's are. These are the peeps that browse the aisles of a store at a snail's pace and then for no apparent reason, stop. That's right. They stop in the middle of the walkway, aisleway, or better yet, pin you between a rack and the wall so you can't escape. Then, when you try to pass, they give you that look of disdain like you shouldn't be annoyed that they have trapped you in a form of hell called "the junior's section" or "designer clothes you can't afford."

I'm sure there are more that I'll add later...but just reflect here...where does this behavior come from? Is it some sort of chemical in the air? Is it the power of credit that causes lapses in human judgment?

Note to self: I love watching tourists in downtown Annapolis. It is a small city, but you'd never know it by the looks of these freak shows. It's easy to find them...they're the ones that are wearing shirts with sleeves, sweaters, and pants in 100 degree weather while the locals are sitting outside having a drink.

The Rules...

...for surviving the night in Adams Morgan.
1. Be prepared to drive around for 45 minutes, carefully navigating the spiderwebs of back streets searching for a parking spot. Pay attention to street names and directions you walk and you weave your way back to the main street. YOU WILL GET LOST when you leave in an altered state (and don’t trust your friends because they aren’t paying attention).

2. Be ready to stand in lines to get into overflowing bars and clubs. These are apparently elite establishments that cater to the “it” crowds…since they’re always at capacity. And if you have group, you’ll wait forever to get everyone in.

3. After a night of being packed in like sardines, top it off with a slice of heaven. Pizza by the slice (and by slice I mean plateful) is sold every 10 feet. It is the almost perfect end to an evening of insanity.

4. Remember, it is commonplace to walk down the middle of the street when exiting the bars and searching for your midnight snack. Literally. Feel free to join the herds and hoards of people walking like sheep down the middle of the street. Don't worry. The cars won't hit you. You outnumber the cars 5000:1. Besides, real-life Frogger is fun...but only if you've had some pizza.

Note to self: Try these. Stand in the middle of an intersection to hail the one cab that has already passed you. OR knock on the window on the second floor of a building in hopes of attracting the attention of someone below on the sidewalk. Sure, people will hear you.

Navy and the Pier.

Two Trips. Too much fun.

First: a week in Chicago with my baby sister. I LOVE Chicago more and more each time I go. There aren't many places where you can run in a beautiful park, eat phenomenal food, play beach volleyball, and shop in some of the best stores all in the same day. Not gonna lie, I might just have to move there. Best parts: fireworks over Navy Pier, playing the Duo and VV, the zoo, the park, and Thai with Coppertone, shoe shopping on the Mile, and getting rid of my ORANGE hair.

Then, I spent 5 days coaching at the Navy Volleyball camp. I have never worked or sweat so much in my life. It was like a blast from college past. I stayed in a bunk in the dorm, fan blowing on me all night, ate dorm food complete with Mystery Meat Monday, and walked all over the campus from gym to gym. Sheesh. It was fun and I met some really cool peeps...and I got to laugh at the pleebs who are fresh on campus and have to run everywhere they go. HA. Suckas.

Note to self: If you find yourself on a plane and the woman who is reading a book next to you puts the book down in her lap, then places her head on the head rest, this is NOT an invitation to open a 35 minute conversation about football and the military. Thanks.