Sunday, April 12, 2009

In Between Services

Lucas wore his p.j.'s to Sunrise Service and then I changed him into his Easter outfit in between services:

Rev: Is that the outfit he is wearing?

Me: It's the outfit I am putting on...

Rev: He is going to wear sandals for church? We always had to wear dress shoes to church when I was growing up.

Me: This is San Diego. He's wearing sandals to church. Consider yourself lucky that I didn't rock the flip-flops to church this morning.

And then he wound up running around barefoot after the Festival service.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Wishing for Little Feet

The boy needed an outfit for Easter, preferably one that did not have to be starched and ironed and in a color that would hide the crumbs of whatever he happenedto be eating. Do you know how much little boys get short-changed when it comes to special occasion clothes? Humans certainly are different from the animals because every male animal I can think of has magnificent colors. Little boys get relegated to a tiny corner of navy blue and white while clothing for little girls vomit all over the store in a cascade of pink and purple, along with headbands, barettes, socks iced with lace, and little plastic purses.

Today I went to four stores in 30 minutes (I work at a mall) on the hunt for clothes for Easter Sunday. I figured he has a blue oxford shirt at home, so all he really needs is a little sweater or jacket and a new pair of pants. I was even ready to plunk down $40 for a sweater and a pair of pants at one store, but the one clerk was doing a price adjustment for two women in front of me and it was taking forever. That store did not get my money. I finally found an outfit for him at a department store, plus bought an extra outfit just in case (you always have to have a Plan B) and I got it all for the same amount I was willing to pay at the other store. We'll see how it goes when I try to find him some shoes. We may have to put some shoe polish on his brown sandals and call it a day. I'm tired.

I am also hunting for something for myself, and I am not having any luck. I have a pair of off-white slacks and all I really want is a pretty top to wear with them. No luck. Everything I have seen today is hideous. And I know some of you are thinking, "You work retail, buy something from your own store." To that I say, "There are times in one's life where you look in your closet and realize you need to branch out." I am refusing to buy one more thing from my store. I also need new shoes, specifically a pair of comfortable sandals. I don't wear heels much anymore for a few reasons: 1. I am nearly 5 feet, 10 inches tall. If I wear heels I have to let the hem out of my pants or order them in a longer length. Time is of the essence. 2. Because I am tall, I have big feet. Big shoes are not cute. 3. I'm tired and heels require you to work it.

Tonight I looked for sandals and I got increasingly frustrated because all of the sandals are hideous this season also. Why do you need to have fringe on a sandal? I love the look of a platform wedge, but again, I would be over 6 feet tall if I wore them. I'm tall enough, thank you. What kills me is that manufacturers don't seem to be thinking of these things when they make these shoes. I wore a woman's size 7 in the FOURTH GRADE, and the size 7 wedge is still quite adorable, however, when it is presented to me in a size 11 something just gets lost in translation. So tonight I walked longingly past the little 6s and 7s and 8s, and checked out the 11s. While I looked I wondered if there are any short women out there with big feet, or tall women out there with tiny feet.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will be looking.

Friday, April 03, 2009

Field Trip

Yesterday The Rev. and I packed up the little one and headed north to Los Angeles. A friend from high school was giving a talk and having a book signing at a small book store on the Sunset Strip. I knew The Rev. would not want to go just for a 10 minute face to face with someone I haven't seen in nearly 16 years, but I told him we could go to Pann's Restaurant first for fried chicken and waffles and then drive the 20 minutes to see Heather. This would be Lucas's first extened road trip, and after clocking in nearly two hours in his car seat he was ready for some fried chicken.

We first went to Pann's after The Rev.'s return from his Mexican experience, and we have been talking about their fried chicken for the past two years. I recall Willard Scott once speaking about being a judge at the Memphis in May BBQ cooking contest, he told the interviewer that after a while you think you cannot look at another piece of smoked pork, but then, when you leave the experience all you can think is , "Must. Get. Smoked. Pork." The Rev. and I feel the same way about Pann's. We haven't overdosed on it by any means, but as of late we've been looking at each other and saying, "Must. Get. Fried. Chicken." So off to Pann's we went and we immensely enjoyed our fried chicken. And all I can think of at this moment (even after Sunday brunch) is the next time I will get to sink my teeth into a chicken wing fried to a crispy, golden goodness.

Our road trips have been rare, due to the nature of our schedules, and our trips to Los Angeles even rarer. We have both traveled there for our jobs on separate occasions, and given our tastes of L.A. traffic, we don't travel there if we don't have to. The trip was unfolding spectacularly well, and we left the restaurant with plenty of time to make it the bookstore. It was literally a straight shot down La Cienega to the Strip, and once we got there our lives of suburban domesticity came out and sucker-punched in the face: no free parking. We drove up and down, looking for a place to park, or at least, a place that would take a Visa card, because who in the world carries cash with them these days? I can think of two people in my life that would always have cash on them, and unluckily for us, they weren't in the backseat of our car. Most of the available parking demanded ten bucks in cash, and my frustration mounted with the lack of ATMs. After the fourth u-turn down a street, I just so happened to pull out and cut off a squad car carrying two of L.A.'s finest. And I promptly got pulled over.

I was fully expecting a ticket, and I will admit I deserved one for the fit I was subjecting The Rev. to as I drove. Instead, the officer gave me a mini-lecture on the importance of "being cognizant while operating a motor vehicle." and then directed me to a public parking lot a few blocks away that actually accepted ATM cards. As he pulled away, I turned to The Rev. and said, "You are so laughing on the inside right now, aren't you?" He responded with a laugh, and we found the public parking lot a few minutes later.

I did get to see my friend, and due to the courteousness of the staff, they actually directed us to cut the line because I was carrying Lucas. I think she was suprised to see me, and we had a few good minutes to catch up. She mentioned wanting to get back to California, and I hope she does come back. I would be happy to show her around, and I won't get pulled over again.