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Jan. 23rd, 2006 11:00 amI hate shopping.
I say that a lot, and yet manage to go out and do it quite a few weekends in a row, now, but it nevertheless remains true, so long as I point on an adjoinder: I hate shopping for things I need. If I need a nice work outfit, I find dresses. When I got for pants, I find shirts. I always end up with skirts to tops in a 3-to-1 ratio.
( Shoes, glorious shoes... )
I may have loathed the trekking about for shoes, but wearing new pairs makes me realize just how badly I needed to get rid of my old shoes. You sort of assume a little bit of walking around will hurt, and, as your shoes wear out, it hurts a little more and you just get used to it. I put on my new pair after buying them and continued to shop with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
feiran, and man, what a difference. Even my already cranky, tired feet managed.
Something else I did this weekend? I watched 150-200 girls and some boys bounce around. I went home in time to catch my youngest sister's team hosting a cheerleading competition. It was pretty interesting, and definitely impressive, what they did, though I doubt very highly (no matter what my mother says) they do any of those stunts at athletic games. My sister's team is going to Nationals in a couple of weeks, so they're pretty good. Devin is a "flyer" meaning she is the one being tossed around (and sporting the best bruises when they drop her), and her group was really good.
But man, let me tell you, cheerleading boys? They are bouncy! There was this one kid with hobbit hair who jack-rabbited all around the tumble mat like mad, and he and another boy from a different team were flipping around together. Crazy. Where else would I be allowed to ogle underaged boys jiggling for my amusement?
On a more serious and down-side note: UGH, TEENAGERS. Teenage boys dress like they're ghetto-fabulous Guidos. Teenage girls seem to treat everything as an excuse for a major meltdown. One girl I saw standing talking to a friend/relative kept pressing her fingertips to her head, wearing an expression of XTREME!ANGUISH!ANGST!OMG! God only knows why, but I'm guessing she had a headache, or had forgotten her cell phone in the car so she couldn't get her message of encouragement from her boyfriend, Johnny Wants-to-be-a-gangsta. Teenagers are sooooooo dramatic. Gag me.
And yes, I can say all these things with impunity because I have witnesses who will testify that I was never that kind of teenager. I got my annoying phase out as a toddler, and I was all good from there. So nyah, I can say anything I want about teenagers because, yeah, they are not as I were...was?
I say that a lot, and yet manage to go out and do it quite a few weekends in a row, now, but it nevertheless remains true, so long as I point on an adjoinder: I hate shopping for things I need. If I need a nice work outfit, I find dresses. When I got for pants, I find shirts. I always end up with skirts to tops in a 3-to-1 ratio.
( Shoes, glorious shoes... )
I may have loathed the trekking about for shoes, but wearing new pairs makes me realize just how badly I needed to get rid of my old shoes. You sort of assume a little bit of walking around will hurt, and, as your shoes wear out, it hurts a little more and you just get used to it. I put on my new pair after buying them and continued to shop with
feiran, and man, what a difference. Even my already cranky, tired feet managed.Something else I did this weekend? I watched 150-200 girls and some boys bounce around. I went home in time to catch my youngest sister's team hosting a cheerleading competition. It was pretty interesting, and definitely impressive, what they did, though I doubt very highly (no matter what my mother says) they do any of those stunts at athletic games. My sister's team is going to Nationals in a couple of weeks, so they're pretty good. Devin is a "flyer" meaning she is the one being tossed around (and sporting the best bruises when they drop her), and her group was really good.
But man, let me tell you, cheerleading boys? They are bouncy! There was this one kid with hobbit hair who jack-rabbited all around the tumble mat like mad, and he and another boy from a different team were flipping around together. Crazy. Where else would I be allowed to ogle underaged boys jiggling for my amusement?
On a more serious and down-side note: UGH, TEENAGERS. Teenage boys dress like they're ghetto-fabulous Guidos. Teenage girls seem to treat everything as an excuse for a major meltdown. One girl I saw standing talking to a friend/relative kept pressing her fingertips to her head, wearing an expression of XTREME!ANGUISH!ANGST!OMG! God only knows why, but I'm guessing she had a headache, or had forgotten her cell phone in the car so she couldn't get her message of encouragement from her boyfriend, Johnny Wants-to-be-a-gangsta. Teenagers are sooooooo dramatic. Gag me.
And yes, I can say all these things with impunity because I have witnesses who will testify that I was never that kind of teenager. I got my annoying phase out as a toddler, and I was all good from there. So nyah, I can say anything I want about teenagers because, yeah, they are not as I were...was?
