Things I want but probably don't really need.

It's sunny today! Really honest-to-goodness sunny. This is nice, seeing as it's been miserable, rainy, and in the 40's the last few days. Actually, the fact that it was in the 40's was good, because it made me want soup, which resulted in a spicy coconut curry veggie soup that rescued 3 beets, the remainder of the chicken soup from my seder, 7/8ths of a completely wrinkly, dehydrated, small head of cabbage, and quite possibly my body from a veggie-less hell of my own making. I am midway through a gargantuan Passover recipe compilation on the other blog. Lord help me finish it. The soup will follow.

Anyway, with the sunshine came my annual hopefulness that THIS is the year I will find The Summer Dress. What is The Summer Dress (henceforth to be known as TSD)? TSD is that elusive item of clothing that I can vamp up with heels, dress down in flats, put a cardigan over, wear under a trenchcoat, and is in a nice print. This should be easy given the fact that stores are pretty much giving clothes away. It isn't.

I keep thinking, "Oh, hey, maybe I'll find a light white cottony thing" (because it is my secret wish to wear one with a huge straw hat and crazy shoes to a garden party) and every time I try on something it looks like absolute hell on my body. You'd think this wouldn't happen, seeing as I'm used to myself in white; fencing uniforms are white jackets, protective white knickers, and white knee socks. Truth be told, I'm not even sure most of the time what body parts are throwing off the fit! It's the most frustrating thing ever.

I put the dress on, squint at myself, take off my socks, squint again, start at the bottom, decide it's too short, wonder how my butt can look so spectacularly hydraulic in a pencil skirt and look so sad, huge, and awful in this dress, how my boobs somehow look nonexistant because the straps place the bust too low on my chest, why did they cut the waist in the wrong place, and Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ on rollerskates, how can this all look so bad simultaneously??!?!?! Then I get back into my underwear, and while the view isn't perfect, it's what I remembered my body looking like from before I tried the offending garment on.

Then I contemplate nudity as a lifestyle.

I tried to go to Macy's the other day in a bid for Estee Lauder mascara (my mom got some in a gift, gave it to me, and now, damn it all, I can't tolerate drugstore mascara - but that's mainly because they don't stock Max Factor in stupid fucking MARYLAND), and to cruise the spring dresses, but the mall was closed for Easter Sunday. This is what I get for moving from NY where there are enough Jews to have things open on Christian holidays and enough Christians to run the show when the Jews are out. Damn the south. Damn the dresses. And damn not having mascara.

I ended up at DSW, and found 2 pairs of sandals (both in size 11!!) for ~$20 each on clearance. Maybe this weekend will look up in my bid for mascara and springtime versatility.