Size 16 and Looking My Age

. . . or not.

Yes, I am wearing the size 16 jeans. The ones that fit before my gall bladder really kicked hard last year. They don't fit quite the way I want them to, yet, but they do fit, and the seat of the size 18 jeans had begun to take on a life of its own.

Yesterday I desperately needed to do laundry, so I put on a size L denim mini-dress (that will also look better in five pounds or so) and ran up to my parents' house to wash clothes. (Our laundry room is one of the few things about these apartments that could be improved). I stopped to run some errands on the way, including buying earings to go with the dress for the high school reunion.

I got hit on by the kid at the earing kiosk. He cozied right up to me, helpful as all get-out. What was I looking for? Oh, it had to match a dress--what was the occasion? High school reunion? (He did a visible double-take). Really? How long? Ten years? Wow, he was only out of his for a year . . .

I got hit on by the nineteen-year-old kid at the earing kiosk. This is actually really good for your self-esteem in a week when you're attending your ten year high school reunion.

So, yes, I have a dress now. It's not at all what I was expecting, and it's just a little funky, and yet somehow, it's perfect. Which, really, describes me fairly well, when you think about it.

I splurged and ordered red pumps to go with it. Priority Mail should have them here by Saturday. Cross your fingers for me. :)