Junk in the Trunk

I went out shopping today for shoes and came home with a little black dress. And no shoes. Whoops. I swear, I wasn't even going to go in the fitting room. And yet, there I was, with this cute little black thing draped over my arm that had leapt from the rack to my grabby little mitts. Everything happened so quickly that I didn't even look at the size. I only saw that it was Kenneth Cole and marked down to $40 from $128. And that it was so cute!

Well, as I'm ripping off my clothes in the fitting room wishing I wasn't wearing a sports bra, I happen to glance at the size. It is a 2.

Just so we're clear, these are the types of women that wear a size 2:

I usually wear a size 6, maybe a size 8 if it runs "smaller" in the booty. (What? I have junk in my trunk carried by my child-bearer hips) If it has more "generous" sizing, I might be able to squeeze myself into a 4. But a TWO???

I haven't worn a two since... since... well, since never! I went straight from kiddie sizes to sprouted hips in one fell swoop. I remember being in middle school and wishing I had the ruler shaped bodies of my schoolmates, thinking I was fat because my body curved out from my waist.  (Lord don't get me started on my 12 year old self's body image!)

Well, I had already stripped off my clothes so I figure, what the heck? It will be too small. I won't be able to get it over my now-loved hourglass shape (read: hip bones and booty and junk). I'll just try to get it on to see if I should even hunt and search for a bigger size. --there was only one on the rack, hence my quick snatch and run to the fitting room. I prepare to suck in the guts as far as they will go, think thin thoughts, step in and -- WHAT THE WHAT??? Praise stretchy fabric and it's smooth ride over my hide!

Always! Gawd, Marilyn, you're so smart. 

Ok, so it fits over my rump, surely the long sleeves are going to be way to short on my gangly arms. I pull the dress all the way up, zip up the back and... do mine eyes deceive me? Does this LBD actually fit?? I have to look at my reflection no less than four mirrors just to verify that I don't look like sausage being squeezed out of its casing.

BTW, don't google "sausage casing" unless you want to be grossed out.
I don't think I will be eating that again. ever. Berf.

Well, even if the four mirrors at the store lied, I came home and tried it on for the roomie, and she agreed that it fit! Wahoooooo!!!! (does happy dance)

Mama's got a new LBD! ...now if only I had somewhere to wear it...

mad props to the DMV (you saw that right, I said DMV)

What is a trip to the DMV? Typically, one imagines soul-less vaguely human-shaped blobs or something ala The Simpsons/Marge's sisters who could give a rat's ass about you, your life, or anything at all and day wasted waiting.

Patty and Selma

I had made an appointment, but was not hopeful. When I arrived I was greeted by a woman who looked like she didn't care who got what they came for or not. She barely waved her hand through the air (like some strange Queen's wave from an alternate universe) indicating that whomever was next should come to her counter while simultaneously pondering the meaning of life at the DMV (staring into space).  I walked up and handed her my paperwork. After a short and painless interview of why I was there, she gave me a number and told me to wait until I was called.

I looked for a seat, and saw that they were nearly all full. I sat in between a young woman who looked perturbed at life (as most teens are) and immersed in the music on her phone and on the other side two korean women chatting away about who knows what. I settled in for what I was sure would be a while, based on the number of people waiting.

Lo and behold, my number was called so quickly I barely had time to fill out the required form and update my facebook status.  The woman who filed the paperwork was fast, thorough, and smiled (!). I was almost sad to leave her to go wait in the picture line.

I jet over to the other side of the DMV to wait in the picture line, which was only about 5 or 6 people long. I got a little worried when the guy in front of me was tweaking and about an hour late for his next hit of whatever. He couldn't stand still, kept scrunching his shoulders up around his ears, looking around anxiously. He turned and smiled at me and said something unintelligible through about 50% missing and 50% rotting teeth.

He asks the people in front of him if they would mind if he went in front of them. They all took one look, and wisely let him ahead.  Things were going so smoothly! Almost too smoothly...

I get to the front of the line, and another lovely (!) DMV worker was sweetly taking pictures, complimenting people, and trying to make things go faster (!!!!!!).  She was the only one operating the cameras, and was attempting to make two of them go at the same time to get the line through faster. All was going so well when... oh no. Hourglass of death on the computer. My face broke the computer. And (according to darling DMV lady) was a really cute picture! Man!

She had to restart the computer, and then my file was vanished! Oh no! Would I have to go through the whole process again??? My heart sank. She handed my paperwork to another DMV'er who tried to fix things, then that woman had to hand it off to yet another DMV'er and my heart sank even lower... Just as my paper was going to float away not only into the ether of the DMV computer network but to the rows of neverending cubicles, my sweet Angel of the DMV photo-lady found my file on the restarted computer! Hurrah! The cute pic didn't save, so I had to take another one.  This one was not nearly as cute. The A/C wasn't exactly "working" in this area of the building so I was a little hot and bothered (read: sweaty) by this time, and am pretty sure slick tendrils of hair had plastered themselves to my face. This picture didn't break the computer however, probably because it was a bad picture. I think it is against DMV policy to have a good driver's license picture. Oh well, who cares? I was outta there IN LESS THAN ONE HOUR!!! So I gotta say, Mad Props to the Hollywood DMV for being efficient, nice, and providing free parking!!