It's a S'mall world...

Went to the Small today. We call it the small because the folks here think it's a mall, but it really isn't. I went to purchase a new pair of jeans. Up until about 12 years ago I never owned a pair of jeans, now they're all I want to wear. After watching one too many "What not to wear" episodes, I realize that I should just burn my closet to the ground, rob a bank and shop only at Banana Republic. Problem is, I am not a Banana Republic size, more like Watermelon Republic.

So off I go into Lane Bryant. It cracks me up that the models -even at Lane Bryant- are thin. There is no possible way the gal flaunted in the window posters is anywhere near a size 18. Even size 14 would be pushing it.

I saunter over to the jeans section. A literal wall of jeans. Relaxed fit. Boot cut. Stretch Classic. After trying on my size in all available options I have decided that #1 I have the legs of a troll; #2 perhaps it is time for S'mee to quit wearing jeans again.

I exhausted the jean department and the sales gal suggested that, "If the jeans are too long, perhaps crop pants would be a better choice." O.k. I bite. I'll try on a pair of crop pants, although I am telling myself, "No one has seen my legs since 1978 and they won't be seeing them today!" Into the dressing room I go. (Good time to play "The Girl From Imponema") I wriggle into said crops and viola! They fit. They are best fitting pants I have tried on today. The problem you ask? Well, crop pants are supposed to hit your leg somewhere right about mid-calf (they named that part of my body correctly...moooo!), or about an inch or so below your knee. HA HA HA HA HA! These crop pants hit me just about one inch above my ankle! Seriously and without ANY exaggeration if they had been one inch longer I would have paid the lousy $60.00 and bought them as pants.

So I bought a shirt instead and went to look for a new phone deal.

"Hello, I am looking for a "family plan" and would like to upgrade my old phone." "How old is your old plan?" "Well, here's my old phone...." (salesman, upon seeing the old phone is trying hard not to laugh) "Um, ma'am, that phone is like 9 years old..." (just about half his age) Do you remember the phones from the old Army movies that came with this big lock box and a crank to get them going? They required the user to hold it with both hands? Yup, that's my phone. "Um... do you know how many minutes were on your old plan?" "Well, no, but my free minutes were from 2 a.m. through 5 a.m. and weekends if you live in Guam." 'Nuff said. He knew he had a live one. Hubby and my daughter are now driving to the Small to get a new phone and deal. Whatever it is, I hope that I can finally use my phone during waking hours.