A Rather Ordinary Post (but if you like stories about shopping, read on)

Shopping during the holidays takes a certain strength.

And I'm not even talking about surviving the crowds.

I'm referring specifically to listening to bad holiday music as you try to figure out which of the 900 bags you've been looking at for 45 minutes is the right one.

I decided early this week that I was due a shopping trip.

I don't exactly have the means right now, but I knew that getting a few new things would actually improve my mood, and honestly, I was down to exactly two pairs of jeans.

I also desperately needed a new "grown-ass woman" bag. My purse was near and dear to my heart, but it was a going-away gift from S from when I moved out of New York City, which made it almost three years old.

I had a very important interview yesterday, so I was determined to find the perfect bag.

Something that screamed "professional," but it had to be affordable, sit comfortably on my shoulder, have compartments, and be a certain size.

Since I insist on carrying food and water with me wherever I go and have been known to carry up to three books at any given time.

My purses get USED.

I hadn't been to Back Bay to shop in months, so I started at Filene's Basement.

The handbag section there was fairly uninspiring. Every single bag I picked up was either uncomfortable, too small, or too expensive.

Also, the music they play at Boston's Filene's Basement is so bad. It's distracting and deterring to making good purchases.

Like, imagine the WORST, most poorly sung elevator muzak you can think of.

Filene's was a fail, so I headed across the street to Marshall's, and spent about 45 minutes just walking up and down the aisles, trying on bags, putting them down, trying on bags, putting them down.

After staring at so many bags for so long, I couldn't tell which ones were ugly anymore and almost bought a Steve Madden bag that was brown shiny leather in the shape of a large leathery flower.

I spent so long at the store, I heard their cycle of Christmas music twice. "Mele Kalikimaka" played twice, and several versions of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve" also assaulted me, while I was trying to concentrate on handbags.

No matter how charming or moving you think those songs are, after hearing them in heavy rotation, you start to feel a little Scrooge-like.

I refused to walk out empty-handed for all the work I'd done, bought two pairs of skinny jeans and a ruffled shirt, and headed back to Filene's Basement, with the Marshall's bag ideas in my mind.

By now, Filene's was also playing Christmas music, so it was a very slight improvement from the previous music that had been playing. Still, none of the bags were quite right.

Determined to succeed, I decided to head further downtown and figured I'd just buy a purse at Macy's. But first checked out DSW, where I actually got in line to buy a large gray bag that was in my budget and was large enough. When I realized it didn't have compartments, I decided not to buy it, at the last minute.

T.J. Maxx was where I found the bag I bought, feet sore, having ridden two subways, and visited four stores.

It's a tan tote with a colorful, patterned lining, and it served me very well on my interview.

Now that I've gotten all the way to the end, I realize this isn't really a good story.

The point is, now I'm a skinny jean convert.

I Just Googled "How to Wear a Poncho"

I love fall fashion.

It makes me think of Back to School.

I've needed a few wardrobe essentials for months.

My fall jackets are all getting ratty, which makes sense since some of them are just hand-me-downs from S.

And the only pair of brown boots I own have, like, a 3-inch heel and threads up the back. (They're not as slutty as they sound, but they're definitely not appropriate to wear with students.)

So I spent some time doing some "back-to-school" shopping, and found these and a SUPER cute khaki jacket that I'm already obsessed with.

I told my friend Jennifer about my successful haul, and this is what happened:

Jennifer: ugh love fall clothes
love
you should get a nice russet colored something
just anything russet

me: oooooh
good one
i have a russet cape thing
that i've never worn
poncho
that's what it's called
i LOVE fall clothes too

Jennifer: and then say it a lot "this is russet colored"

me: favorite
LOL!
yes.

Jennifer: Me: can i borrow your poncho?
you: you mean the russet colored one?
even tho you just have one

me: i like it
let's recreate this
the thing about the poncho is
i need a cute HAND bag to carry with it
not a back pack or shoulder bag
and i can't figure out what to wear under it

Jennifer: nothing
oh my god, i'm cracking up
some chick wears a poncho thinking it's a shirt

me: HAHAHAHA!
i could probably wear a tank top of some sort
i dunno
it confuses me

Jennifer: i can't stop laughing

me: HAHAH! love it
are you at work?
making a fool of yourself

Jennifer: yes

According to the aforementioned Google search, I can wear virtually anything under it.

Don't think I'll go the nothing route.

Or the bikini top route either, which is one of the suggestions.

"Good morning, students...Yes, I am wearing a black bikini under my poncho. But, please note, the poncho is russet-colored!"

Fitting Rooms are My Ninth Circle of Hell

I've been shopping a lot lately. For those of you who know me, you understand that this is significant. I'm notoriously not the best shopper ever. Or the most eager.

But, I'm working in Connecticut again this summer and want to feel more like a lady than I did last year, during which I never seemed to have quite the right thing to wear on nights off. So I've spent a lot of time collecting summer dresses that will last through the physical demands this work will put me under, as well as keep me comfortable and cool.

I'm also planning a small birthday party mid-month and wanted something new and fun for that.

And last night, I stayed awake until 330 AM, worrying about what I could wear to the staff party at the end of the summer.

For somebody who not only already owns more dresses than I ever wear and who outright dislikes shopping on most days, I've probably tried on more than forty dresses in the last month. Nothing seems to be fitting me lately.

My goal today, as I reluctantly headed to Macy's in a last-ditch effort, was to find a comfortable pair of black flipflops (which have mysteriously been eluding me for weeks, until I resorted to a pair of Crocs--DO NOT JUDGE) and a suitable party dress that I could wear to both my birthday party and the staff party.

Now, I have chronicled my complicated relationship with clothes before. We have a checkered history together.

But I was bound and determined to leave with a dress that at least fit me right and wasn't ugly or over about $50.

I swept through the dress racks, taking every dress that didn't make my eyes fall out or make me gag between the sizes of 8 and 12.

My first round in the fitting room took me about half an hour, and I had to endure loud Chinese women through the entire ordeal. By the time I'd tried on over six dresses, I was sweating and feeling faint. And then, suddenly, my hip got a cramp.

Shopping is hard work.

But still no dress.

I wandered the floor again, limping with my sore hip, and prepared to fail.

I took a tour of the entire floor, and resorted to the Juniors' department, which, at almost 27 years old, is finally beginning to feel wrong. And also, what's with the odd numbers?

Another six dresses into the fitting room with me, and another loud conversation in a foreign language to overhear.

It's amazing how your standards shift when you're shopping for hours.

I was almost convinced I could pull off a black and white stretchy tube dress. It was $60 and seemed like the best option.

Until I tried on the last dress.

I looked at it and thought, "If this isn't it, I'm leaving, and I'll just wear a Tshirt and jeans to the parties."

It has a white bodice with thick straps, a large black belt, and a pleated royal blue skirt. And, while it's not PERFECT, I know it will make me feel pretty for two nights. And that's worth the $41 it cost, for sure.

Besides, I certainly wasn't leaving Macy's with just Crocs as evidence I'd survived.

I Get Agita When I Don't Post Every Other Day

So here's a blow-by-blow of what's going on:

Wednesday night:
Partied with my grad school classmates;
Drank too much champagne (as I am wont to do);
Danced a lot;
Laughed a lot;
Took embarrassing photos;
Took an unnecessary shot of tequila;
Drank late into the evening/early morning;
Tried to do a proper duet of "Champagne" from In the Heights...eight times.

Thursday:
Suffered inevitable hangover;
Consumed fried egg BLT in Brookline with girlfriends;
Lunched with kiddoes;
Reached awkward realization of not being their teacher anymore.

Friday:
Slept very late, after drunken sleep Wednesday night;
Lunch with RM, during which she gave me MANY wonderful gifts and a card that made me burst into tears in public;
Finally hung with cousin and watched TLC shows late into the evening;
Felt her baby kick (she's due in September).

Today:
Slept late;
Hung with roommates and watched the final minutes of the season finale of Private Practice;
Tried not to become obsessed with said show;
Got back into bed until 3 PM;
Headed to spa for spa pedicure;
Got legs massaged and geranium-scrubbed;
Got toes painted iridescent blue;
Dinner and drinks with MW;
Impulse-slightly-drunken shoe shopping;
Breaking in new shoes.

Sunday:
Probably sleeping late;
Brother arrives;
Drinks with friends;
Dinner with friend's family;
Inevitable stumbling home with brother.

Monday:
Hopefully waking up without hangover;
Breakfast with brother;
Commencement at 3 PM;
Dinner with adoring fans.

Holy shit.