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12:52 p.m. - 2012-02-05
A short stay in the bad country.

It's weird, I was in a horrible mood all week and didn't know it. Sounds nutty, I know, but until I read my paper journal and saw how wrathful and cranky what I'd written was I truly had no clue. It's passed now, this stealth bad mood. I hope. And in case you're wondering, my 'paper' journal is actually written on my laptop, but it's the daily nitty-natty I don't wish to bore anyone here with. Not that I've been all that scintillating of late here anyhow, but I doubt reading about how many and what kinds of loads of laundry I did and my musings about what I'd like to make for dinner and what the state of my bowels is would be all that fun.

Mick and I went out for Date Night last night. Dinner at Dickey's Barbeque and a movie. 'Contraband' was okay. Not wonderful, certainly not the best heist movie I've ever seen, but it did what it was supposed to. Mick and I are now waiting for the movie to come out on dvd so we can settle an argument about something we'd seen in the background. There's $25 and the sexual favor of our choice on the line, so buying our own copy of this mostly 'meh' movie is a bigger deal than you'd think.

Getting to dinner was kind of a balls up. We'd originally intended to go to a new diner across the road from the theater. It's a big shiny chromed palace with neon and lovely Art Deco styling. We're diner people and the idea of finding a new one is always a good thing. The parking lot was packed, but the place is huge so we figured we'd get seated. Wrong! The foyer was crammed full and people were standing around inside the restaurant proper too. GAH! We don't wait. Ever. So we toddled through the parking lot and went to the Cracker Barrel next-door. And it too was packed. Fine. Into the car and across the road into the plaza where the theater is. There's several eateries, but the designer of the plaza must have done some serious drugs, the place is laid out like an Escher. We parked and wandered around the weird angled walkways, turning corners at random, we passed by the BBQ place, but had already decided to go to the buffet. HA! When we finally found the front door and went in we saw it was nuts in there. Again a zillion people waiting for tables. At a buffet? Are you kidding me? Back out into the cold and eventually we turned the correct corner and saw the BBQ place again. Clean, well lit, and mercifully nearly empty. Turned out to be a good choice. The food was fab. Totally worth the Tums for dessert.

We still had a little time to kill before the movie so despite it being rather chilly we browsed. The plaza is technically an outlet mall and there's a few outlets, mostly menswear, but there's other stores and businesses too. Including one of those chain dentistry places. I know I'm spoiled by having my wonderful dentist. The guy's been taking care of my teeth for over 40 years. Even when I lived in Texas I'd make visits home and have my check-ups and cleanings done at my beloved Dr Ralph's. I like and trust him and his staff and live in dread of the day when he finally retires. The new associates are good, I let them do Wolf's teeth, but my own I trust to no one but Ralph. Something enough of his other longterm patients must agree with because the man still comes in a couple times a week and according to Barb the hygienist (she's been there 30 years and remembers when I was pregnant with Alex) my dentist hasn't taken on a new client in over 5 years. All new people are assigned to the associates. As I will be when Ralph finally hangs up his drill. Sigh...

Anyhoodle, I had to wonder about who would go to a storefront dental office and why. I know we are a transient society and people must have to find new dentists all the time. Not everyone is as fortunate and as screwy as I am to maintain a relationship with the same dentist even when I lived 2,000 miles thataway. But a chain store? A Dentists-R-Us? The very thought of such a thing gives me the willies.

Mick and I went into the shoe outlet where I got my Pumas. Which are of course men's Pumas. I learned a long time ago to not go into the ladies shoe departments of any place but Payless, it's futile and depressing. MIL keeps giving me coupons to DSW and such and I keep telling her that my feet are too big and those places don't carry my size, but she like most normal sized people cannot conceive of having feet so big that 99.9% of stores don't even bother stocking anything for you. But as I said, we had time to kill and I like a dope went over to the ladies section and sure enough depressed the shit out of myself by drooling over sexy, cute and styling shoes I will never, ever, ever get a chance to wear in a zillion years. Fucking freak of nature I am. LA the Sasquatch.

I really should have known better, especially because earlier this week I had nearly the same experience in the lingerie department at JC Penney. We'd gone to Penney's to look at bed linens and finding nothing suitable we were just farting around in some of the other departments. Then Mick needed to use the can, which is located in the back of the store near lingerie. I trailed after him and waited while he did his thing. He wasn't gone long, but I had time enough to see for myself that like my feet, my gargantuan tits are never going to be considered worth carrying stock for at mainstream stores. At least these days I can shop at Cacique and find boulder holders that not only fit but are actually kind of pretty too. But there was at least an acre of beautiful bras at Penney's- all sorts of wonderful colors and styles and not a goddamn one of them came in my size. All of my old inadequacies about my humongus size and lack of feminine norms came flooding back. I felt like an oaf. A great big pile of ugly. So I really, really, really should have known better than go near the women's shoes at the outlet store last night. Yet there I was practically in tears over a pair of adorable T-strap pumps. Mick had to pry the shoes out of my desperate clutch and haul me out of the store with a tight hand on my arm. Once outside he was very sweet and gave me a hug and an encouraging smile. He knew exactly what was going on with me and was doing his best to stave off a meltdown.

But see? That's what I mean about not knowing I was in a bad place. The funks and the bitey mood snuck up on me. And I'd done dumb shit that pretty much guaranteed I'd feel even worse. So dopey. At least I'm aware of what the deal is and can help myself. I know part of it is that I'd run out of a few of the suppliments and teas I've been taking. I figured long as I was still taking the prescribed meds I'd be cool. Lesson learned. So I'll post this and hit the grit.

Off to the herbalist's and the health food store. ~LA

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