Bathing Suits

I was going to save this one for later. I'm sure you are so very tired of hearing about my clothing and my closet purge -- I am even sick of it. But, since the swimsuit story was brought up in a recent comment, I thought I'd go ahead and share.

The visual is just thrown in for comic relief. I don't know these people but they sure remind me of some swimsuits I've owned.

When I came to the swimsuit section of my closet purge, I was once again reminded of every vacation and every summer for the last 20 years. I used to buy one or two suits a year. Some years I would splurge at an end-of-season sale and buy several. I've bought a few on vacation. For someone who does not enjoy shopping or trying on swimsuits, I have always had many and seemed to be on an endless pursuit of new ones. I have worn them all and apparently, I've kept them all.

They even have little categories in my mind:

Two-piece suits. Only to be worn on vacations. Never to be worn on any kind of business trip or to the husband's club.

Comfortable one-piece suits. Usually older and great for lake weekends.

Wild patterns and colors. Usually bought on a whim while vacationing somewhere tropical. Often with matching sarong, which seemed important at the time. Lived at the bottom of the pile until next trip.

Trusted standbys. Love them. Worn them for years. My regulars for cocktail corner. All of my friends have seen them but I will continue to wear them until they are worn out or I am.

Dressy suits. (I am not making this up.) I bought a couple of suits that were shimmery and not anything you would wear off a diving board. These were for ski trips that might end with a dip in the hot tub or other such occasions.

My friend Lynn helped me sort through them. Remember, we only recently reconnected and she had no idea that I had amassed this ridiculous amount of clothing. I think the swimsuit collection put her over the edge.

She made lots of politically-incorrect statements about the women who would line up to get my vibrant and glitzy suits. She made a tough clean-up job a whole lot easier with the laughter we shared.

The majority of the suits are gone now. I will have to make do with my trusted standbys. They were always my favorites anyway and I haven't been in a hot tub in years.

Big Sal

My friend, Big Sal, was honored this weekend. Her husband and family threw her a big, splashing bash for her 60th birthday. 60 is the new 40 and she doesn't even look 40. As usual, I'm surrounded by freaks of nature -- and she's a natural beauty -- no Joan Rivers plan involved.

She's also crazy. She has crashed more cars than I can count. She put the wrong gas (regular instead of diesel) in her husband's company vehicle. She lost some diamond earrings and convinced that one of her dogs may have eaten them, she spent days checking their poop and having them x-rayed. I don't want to know what that cost.

On her actual birthday, she brought tiaras to the pool on Labor Day and girlfriends walked around with crowns. She is the accessory queen. We all got plastic tiaras but she found a great crown in a second hand store, complete with rhinestones. She also provided boas. She is my shopping guru.

The husband and I showed up at the party, ready to salute our friend. We knew most people but I found it interesting that the first person we met at the top of the stairs was our governor.

She may giggle like a schoolgirl or make us all laugh. She's got friends in high places. Mostly, she shows me what it's like to embrace life, embrace friends and family, and show the rest of us how to balance dignity and abandon.

At the pool on Labor Day, Big Sal was flipping and diving off the board. I did too. (It's a rule that I have to do it at least once a year.)

Once I admired a jacket she was wearing. She gave it to me. She bought it at the Goodwill and she'll find another one.

We call her Big Sal although she is tiny. The "Big" part is a reflection of her spirit and her heart.

My Favorite Shopping

I do not care to shop. I find grocery shopping a huge pain and shopping for clothing is depressing. They make nothing for women my size or my age. Either I must settle for something designed for a teenager or a dowdy old woman. I am neither. Plus, I'm cheap so I refuse to pay astronomical prices.

I like to shop at Target. I can usually find everything I need and a few things I didn't know I needed.

When we go to Phoenix, I like to shop at Last Chance. I stock up on tanks and usually find some cute shoes. I own more coats than any human being should have but I always find great bargains in Phoenix.

My favorite shopping is the bookstore. I hoard my gift certificates and save them for a few trips each year. Just walking through the door, all my senses come alive. I love the sight of my favorite authors' names on a new release. I love the feel and smell of new books.

Then I bring all of my new friends home and prioritize them. I restocked yesterday and I've already chosen the ones I will take to the lake.

To Market, To Market

I'm a small market person. I find zero appeal in shopping somewhere that I can buy corn and tires. It confuses me.

My neighborhood has great little shops. I can park my car and go to the bank, the drug store, the meat market, the little grocery and the dry cleaners. I can browse the jewelry store. I can grab a sandwich and hors d'oeuvres at the great deli and if I need to, I can restock our liquor cabinet in the corner store.

The oldies loved this area. They could wait for a prescription while browsing or eating.

The husband decided that we should grill Ahi tuna and shrimp tonight. I had to venture a little north of my normal clan of shops. Three miles north of my home is a great fish market where everything comes in fresh each day.

I couldn't buy a lawn mower or a treadmill in these shops. I did get some wonderfully fresh seafood.

Into the Madness

After dealing with two different appliance repairmen, the carpet cleaning people and at least twelve phone calls, I thought perhaps I should venture out and get a few gifts for Christmas. I have a few that I've purchased early but that's it. I've managed to pull it together for a couple of parties but my time is running out. (Although I avoid shopping, this is NOT me. I can't figure out when I became this person.)

Since I am always destined to run into someone who knows me or the husband, I decided to shower and slap on some make-up. I hate to give people a Halloween scare during the Christmas season.

I planned two stops. Shopping and the grocery.

On the way to shop, I realized I was hungry so I stopped for a sandwich. Do you think I was putting off my duties? Once inside the store, I started tailing people. They would say, "I think this is the best one." If they put it in their cart, I put one in mine. Then I got distracted with interesting conversations around me so I pulled out my notebook and jotted some writing thoughts. In the midst of this, I answered my cell phone at least three times. At one point, I considered sitting on the floor while I was making my notes and talking on the phone but I decided it might draw undue attention.

I was in the aisle with discounted Christmas decorations and an oldie came up to me with a wad of things in her hand. She thrust them upon me and explained that she has a gift exchange with ... pick one -- her bowling group, her card group, her living will club -- I didn't quite catch it. But, I gave my opinion and helped her pick some other things.

It's official. I am an oldies magnet.

I left the store and it was dark, drizzling and a little foggy. The grocery will have to be taken care of tomorrow. I came home and left everything in my trunk.

I'm having a little Scarlett moment -- Tomorrow is another day.

This Little Piggy Went to Market

If you've raised or been around children, chances are that you have said this Mother Goose nursery rhyme:

This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.
And this little piggy went ...
"Wee wee wee" all the way home.

I used to chant this to the baby. I spent countless hours babysitting in my youth and I used it a lot. Sometimes Big Daddy will convince me to help with a pedicure. I can't help myself. I start chanting, "This little piggy ..." Usually, he grabs a whacker.

Our little piggies are off to the market. This little piggy stayed home. I made an off-the-cuff remark that there is enough food in our pantry to feed us for two years. She did not agree. (Nor did she appreciate the comment.)

So, I'll wait for the garage door to open and I'll unload the haul. And I'll be thinking, "Wee wee wee" as I bring it all home.

The Lure of Target

I love going to Target. I actually fantasize about it. I'm trying to exercise some self-control because I always get into trouble. (I have never walked into a Target without spending $100 minimum. Some trips have rivaled the national debt of small countries.) I am not a shopper but there's something about Target -- I want it all! Even the cat toys look appealing and I don't own a cat.

Yippee Yah Hoo! Today, I went to Target.

The first thing that hits you at my local Target is the dollar section. A lot of it is goofy stuff for kids but occasionally they put some good stuff in there. Forget Vegas, I hit the jackpot at Target. Readers of all strengths and multiple colors for $1. What? One dollar? I bought three pairs.

Some people enjoy buying designer shoes at $300 a pop. I bought two cute pairs of flats for $12.99 each.

I bought a pair of jeans for $22.99. I own jillions of jeans but I tried them on, liked them and made the executive decision to own them.

The rest of my list was boring: paper products, dog food, etc. I can be mesmerized in these sections too.

In the pet section, I did not escape with just food. A couple of treats, a new toy, and Oh, look at this dog cushion on sale for $12.99. Maybe I'll stick that in my office for Gabby. Yep, I bought it.

The oldies love to go to Walmart. I hate Walmart. I have had so many bad experiences with clerks, merchandise, and the clientele that I refuse to go there.

Even with my diversions, I managed to escape Target with a bill of $150. I get to back in a month and a half!

Shopping

The oldies love to go shopping. The warehouse store is their favorite destination and they come home loaded up with butter, bacon, paper towels and whatever else strikes their fancy. They also buy a lot of new clothes, which I find ironic for two people who rarely leave the house.

I rarely shop. I don't need a thing. I hate going to the grocery and those warehouse stores overwhelm me. I like a bargain so I usually buy a few things at the Nordstom's outlet (Last Chance) when I go to Phoenix in January. One of my girlfriends finds lots of bargains at Goodwill and consignment shops. I'm jealous.

Last Christmas, I made a list and paid a friend to do the bulk of it. Or, I shop online. This is fascinating to the mother-in-law and now she asks me to search for things for her. I may not be good at a lot of things but I can meander my way around the Internet.

Some shopping is critical, like shopping for your wedding dress or shopping for the bathing suit that doesn't make you look like a whale. (In college, a lot of girls were shopping for a husband.) Other than that, it's minutia: paper towels, toilet paper, something for dinner...

I have a husband. The oldies have stocked up on paper products. I prefer to go out for dinner. I won't be shopping for a while.

Two of 'em

My aunt has an audio tape of me when I was a toddler. It captures me spouting my favorite phrase: I want "two of 'em."

Not much has changed in 40+ years. When I shop, if I'm lucky enough to find something that fits and is reasonable in price, I buy two of 'em. Before they outlawed Happy Hour, I loved it because you got two of 'em.

When the husband discussed helping out the oldies, it made some sense. Now I've got two of 'em and they're headed back home.