I went to Sears this morning because I had a gift card (um...thanks?) and let me tell you something, that store is UGLY. I wandered around for an hour looking for something I didn't hate and eventually found a scarf and some earrings that weren't totally butt ugly. I saw a shirt there that was made of a really thin material, was perfectly square with arm holes and a neck hole just left open in the sides and top, and had a pocket sewn on the front that took up the lower right quadrant. And it had horizontal stripes. Not even the most beautiful supermodel would look good in that shirt. I should have taken a picture. I also contemplated getting a down vest but when I tried it on I discovered that the arm holes were somehow too far back or high or something and it had ridiculously huge plastic buttons on it right next to the zipper. So weird. Sears, you suck.
I just finished reading Jane Eyre. I LOVE THAT BOOK! So good. Now I'm starting The Poisonwood Bible for bookclub at the end of the month. I better like it. Or else.
There are some bullying/teasing problems on Kira's hockey team right now and boy does it bring me back! Girls are mean. When I was 12 my family lived in Australia for a year, and when we came back all my former classmates had merged to the middle school along with a couple other elementary schools and I was an easy target for some of the bullies.
I don't know why. Probably because I was the new kid. This one girl, I'll call her Bertha, was especially mean to me but she couldn't see under my dorky exterior to the pure font of meanness underneath. She got the message when I and a few of my dorky friends started the "I hate Bertha" club by writing "Join the I Hate Bertha club!" on a piece of notebook paper and then took it around at a high school hockey game and had everyone and their brother sign it, and then left it on her desk on Monday morning. She went from bully to victim really fast and the thing about the biggest bullies is that they also make the most dramatic victims. She was SUCH A VICTIM. But she eventually got over it and we became friendly out of respect for our mutual bullying skills. At our ten-year reunion one of Bertha's perpetual victims from middle school told me that she still had the notebook paper and she treasured it.