I hate Kohls!

Today, I went short shopping. I went to Kohls, not because of their superior products, outstanding service, or amazing clothes, but I had twenty bucks in "Kohls Kash" burning a hole in my pocket. P.S. I think it's a fair assessment to make that Kohls gives me the creeps. Even just saying the name gives me the willies. Anyhow, like I said, I had this 'coupon,' (also a word that I hate.... As in, "Didja remember to clip all the coupons  from the monthly flyer hunny bunches?" Or, "Dammit! I forgot the coupon for this piece of shit I don't really need or want, but because I have a G.D. coupon, but I'm going to go ahead and get it b/c one day I might just need three bags of charcoal, even though I have a gas grill.") and it means two things. First, I remembered the dad blamed thing, and second, it means free stuff, which I'm all about, and happens to outrank my dislike of the aforementioned store. I know, I know, it's hard to make such a stand against the man when they keep giving me free stuff. So, I'm a bigot and I know it.

Getting back to my point, which is/was shopping for a stupid pair of shorts that I was hoping to get for free, vis a vis the stupid "Kohls Kash..." Alrighty then, so as is my a.d.h.d., and slightly moronic way, I roam around looking for anything that resembles bottoms, preferably not in the men's dept. I find a pair of shorts that I think are kinda cute, and well, that must be the style these days, but what the heck to I know... When I look around, and to my dismay find at least three women ranging in age from 49 through about 87 years old also picking out 'cute' shorts to wear. Aghast I fled the official 'Old Lady Dept.' with shame in my eyes, and heaviness of heart. Here's why... How could I, a reasonably young women, closer to 25 than to 30, (ok, fine, 27,) find shorts in a dept. that I have NO business being in? Am I, who was once yesterday wearing booty shorts, a skimpy top, calling it good, and letting it all hang out becoming frumpy? What in the hell is wrong with me??? Is this what happens when a girl becomes a woman, and makes the sad, but inevitable transfer to 'old?' *GASP* Am I becoming o-l-d? (One must spell these things in order to prevent them from being true) What could've possibly attracted me to such a truly hideous garment?

There seems to be very few choices at hand. Either I accept that I'm no longer a semi-perma-tanned teenage with self esteem issues, or accept myself for who I am. To be honest, I'm not really digging either of these. I think my only option is to never, ever, go shopping for myself at Kohls. Note to self: Do not even entertain the notion that you could find clothes that make you look hot there. You have been trying to do so for a while, and the best solution is to not pretend any longer that you are going to find something amazing there. It just ain't gonna happen. Get over it girlfriend, just go to TJMaxx, or Nordtrom's Rack, and get some real style.

On a completely different tack I did find cool jeans and some decent tees, and saved some 75 odd dollars. Too bad they were for my fiance.

Letters to Detroit (1)

Dear Detroit,

It's not you it's me. But no really, it's really you. All your pointless traffic for no discernible reason that I can see. It's like LA, but worse because we're in Detroit. You know, the city that is dying before our very eyes... Seriously, it's not like anybody out here has a job. So why does it take 45 minutes to go 11 miles? It's one of the mysteries of the modern universe. I have to say I'm really disappointed in you. Also, Woodward, you're fired! Seriously, go to hell. You're supposed to make traveling to the belly of hell faster, but you suck at life. You have 4 lanes going in either direction, but the speed limit is 45mph, and the timing of the lights is all cattywampus and ill timed. Also, the roads in Detroit as terrible! I'd rather ride in a 1948 jalopy down a dirt road at speed than be in a brand new fully equipped Chevy Malibu, (complete with leather reclining seats,) going down the Stephenson highway.

That Moment...

If there is one overused, hackneyed phrase it's 'that moment.' As in, "That moment when you realize that you're out of cheerios, which like re-ally sucks because I really wanted a bowl." Or, "That moment when you realize that your car is out of gas." Actually that last one kind of works, because, in that moment you do realize something crucial. But my point still stands. Please for the love of all that is holy stop! You don't sound ironic you sound pathetic. Somebody who really isn't at all creative pretending to be so a bunch of people will like their Facebook status update.

The next time I see a status including that phrase I'm going to hunt you down and punch you in the face. Seriously, by the time I've finished this I've already punched myself in the face four and half times.

Balaclava

Mind equals blown! I first heard this word used in a Harry Potter book. Something about Hagrid moving Christmas trees and removing his "balaclava." I just assumed it was a scarf with a fancy name. Fast forward til yesterday. I kept hearing people, in this book I was listening to, making references to Mother F-ing balaclavas. Like seriously call it a GD scarf already!!!! It sounds like a Greek dessert, or flaky crusted pastry. The answer is D, none of the above. It's a face mask. Secretly, I feel that I have two options, to feel like an imbecilic for being such an ignoramus, or if I should go on strike against the word and have it eradicated from the language. Either way, I'm not planning on ever wearing one.

first blog ever

soo, my aunt has propelled me towards a future in blogging. i'm trying it out so i can see if this is something i find worth while. i'll be using my blog to advance my writing skills, share ideas, thoughts, pet peeves, and projects i'm working on ect. more than a little overwelming i assure you dear reader.(? are you out there?)