My sympathetic status, you will be glad to know, remains intact, although it is both less mod and less Nesbitty than I thought. The other skirt, a black-and-green plaid, almost-fits, in that way full skirts have where they just sit a little lower on one's hips than if they actually fit. So that'll do. I suspect that my choice of this skirt makes it very clear that I came of age in the '90s, in that it is a bit grunge or at least post-punk, but I'm not going to any particular length to pretend I am some other age anyway.
The dress...I am still thinking about the dress. It's a summer sundress, and -- well, I think gaaldine once put it best, when we were discussing my bridesmaid dress: "I didn't expect it to be so...so...so 'look at my boobs!'" This dress was clearly constructed for someone with a rather different body type than mine, and the result is...I will ponder how I feel about the result, is what. I don't think it's bad; I'm just not sure it's me. The other thing about it is that it is reminds me of a previous dress of which my friend Rob said, "You know those orange and white popsicle things?" "Dreamsicles?" "Right! You look like a Dreamsicle in that dress." He meant it to be nice. Really. it's just that it's a rather vivid orange. I wear vivid orange well. But it remains vivid orange. So. I ponder.
All this would be easier if I didn't care about clothes, but I do. (Not about fashion. About my clothes.) On the other hand, I am absurdly pleased with the two skirts, and I wouldn't be if I didn't care about clothes.
Anyway, back to hockey stories and Spinoza, consecutively, not concurrently.
*The UPS man. Oh, how she hates him.