We were at Walmart Supercenter today, a Sunday. And not the average harried-parent-trying-to-make-sure-the-little-brat-doesn't-starve-so-the-school-doesn't-call-child-protective-services Sunday. This was definitely a pre-Thanksgiving Sunday. Carts so close that you could see what your temporary acquaintance was buying, and they didn't care if you were looking. They just wanted to get through, like you do.
Meridith told me that Nina, the girl I mentioned a few entries back, was behind the returns and exchanges counter, and I caught a glimpse of her after leaving the men's restroom at the front of the store, near that counter, but decided to do nothing more. I can't. Suppose she's exactly what I've been looking for, and then there's that emotional tsunami that comes with the fact that, oh yeah, I'm probably moving to Henderson, Nevada in the next few months? I can't do that. Therefore, she shall remain a beacon to me of what I want in a woman being available. However, I go only by looks on that count, since I didn't talk to her, but she looked intelligent.
I also decided that it was time to stop bullshitting and shop for pants (The past couple times we've been to Walmart Supercenter, I didn't feel like it). I have one pair that I use regularly, that fits me decently. I can't go to Las Vegas the next time on one pair, nor when the time comes to move.
So many brands, so many prices. And I wasn't going to wear light-colored denim jeans either. I like them with a blue gloom, not clawing for attention. My personality comes directly from me and my graphic t-shirts, such as Galaga, Beavis & Butt-Head, The Big Lebowski, The Jungle Book, the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland, and many others. Not my jeans.
I tried 34x30, which is to say that I got half of my left leg in one pair. 36x30 allowed me to get both legs in, and to zip up, but in order to get out of them, I had to push them down, tight as they were. I was worried that I was going to be stuck in them.
On the second reconnaissance mission for pants, after putting the rejected pile into the cart to the right of the fitting rooms, I found Wranglers, regular fit, 38x30, one pair lighter than the other, but both the darkish blue I like. Back to the fitting room and the hope for a better tomorrow, and jeans I could take home.
After discovering that the blue sweatshirt I was wearing was actually an extra large that I hadn't gotten rid of after dropping 60+ pounds, I tried on the large Fruit of the Loom blue sweatshirt I had found, but didn't like how it felt, though I think that's because of my fierce aversion to sweatshirts. I don't like them. They're uncomfortable, even after being washed. It's not a suffocating feeling, but rather that winter tries to box me in and I won't let it. I was born and raised in Florida, with humidity that makes your sweat start to sweat. In the past few weeks, I've gotten away with wearing a Fruit of the Loom white t-shirt, and then one of my graphic t-shirts over that, with a thick-enough jacket to provide more warmth. It worked when I was a campus supervisor on Friday, though it wasn't as frozen-daiquiri windy as it was today, hence why I was stuck wearing a stupid sweatshirt.
I didn't want the sweatshirt that I tried on, but I know I have to get one or two or three sweatshirts to replace the extra large ones I don't need anymore because now when I wear them, there's enough fabric to make two medium-sized sweatshirts, and that does not look good on me.
Now to the Wranglers. They fit, but only just. I could bend down and I could squat without them tearing and leaving me with only the belt loops. I could zip them up, but on one pair, there was a tiny bit of space left by the zipper at the top. It absolutely wouldn't go any further, but the zipper flap takes care of modesty for me. I could wear them, and they would be useful as a continuous reminder to lose more weight. I have been working on it, and I'm grateful that I had a few days last week at work in which I walked around a lot. Some of this weight is stubborn, though. It won't leave. I don't bother with weighing myself on the scale anymore because I follow my diet strictly during the week, I let go a tiny bit sometimes during the weekend, and it'll go up a bit and down a bit, so why should I go up and down with it too? I don't need that conflict from numbers. I got enough of that in my middle and high school math classes. I just keep on doing what I'm doing, and eat vegetables much more often than I have lately, and I'll eventually get to where I want to be.
Both pairs of Wranglers cost $31.54 ($15.77 each), which was a relief for me, because I spotted $21 price displays for some other brands of jeans and dreaded the thought of paying that, before I found the Wranglers. I bought them, and one day soon, I hope, I'll slip into them and find that they fit comfortably. What better motivation to lose even more weight than having pants that'll grow once you shrink? Well, that, and female bibliophiles in Las Vegas, I hope. But this is first and foremost for me.
