Making Room

Yesterday was Therapy Thursday. My therapist once tried to move it to Wednesday and it just didn't work because Therapy Wednesday doesn't sound as good.

I was telling her about how I finally moved almost all of the clothes out of my closet from the 90's that my mom bought me. To which she asked, "What are you trying to make room for?"

"New clothes."

"But what are you trying to make room for?"

"New clothes." Seriously. The black blazer I had - shoulder pads, was so long that it went past my butt, and it had big gold logo patch. I needed a new black blazer and some other staples.

But, also, I realized this after my mom being gone for 10 years: She's more a part of me than ever. I don't need the things to see her in my son, to feel her beside me when I am happy, and to feel her hand when I am sad. And she would want me to have a new blazer.

The Games Ann Taylor Plays

I don't know about where you live but here the only thing between Target and Tory for true office wear is Ann Taylor. Sure, I can get away with JCrew and Banana (on the odd occasion I can find something that fits at the Banana - I always leave there questioning whether I have a peculiar sized torso). But if I need an outfit for a business presentation, it's Ann Taylor.

At this point in my life, I could be wearing Milly or Stella or DVF on a regular basis. However, maybe I am just still too close to that time in my life that I lived paycheck to paycheck, or maybe I just read too many stories about unemployed people. I can't justify a wardrobe full of that. People are hungry.

So I am quite familiar with Ann Taylor. And here is what I quickly realized after I was back in the business of having to look like a business person . . . you never should pay full price for anything at Ann Taylor. Wait a week and whatever you have had your eye on will be 40 to 50% off. This past weekend I set out to replace the black blazer wardrobe staple and I got one that had been over $250 for $97. The next day, that promotion was over and it was $100 off suits. Now, this morning, it's buy one get one 50% off.

Which begets the question - why would anybody pay full price for anything at Ann Taylor? And is that the marketing strategy you want? It tells me, "these clothes are not worth their full price." However, I guess it does work because, for work, I have more Ann Taylor than anything else.

Modified Splitz

Sauteed bananas, chocolate chips, and Talenti Sea Salt Caramel gelato. My new obsession. Given that when I find a food I love it's all I eat day and night for weeks until I no longer want it ever, I am due to grow as big as a house.

Most excellent modification - grilled banana splits! Cut slit in banana peel, shove chocolate chips around banana in peel, wrap in foil and grill. When chocolate chips are melted, take off grill and add gelato. Considering I don't grill, and it's about to get cold and snow in the next month, I picture my husband spending a lot of time outside grilling banana splits in the snow.

Spoiler Alert

I took The Boy to see Dolphin Tale this weekend. I cried through the whole second half. Damn if they didn't get that dolphin a new tail.

Also, The Boy wanted a new outfit. From Nordstrom. Where did this kid come from? But I love it because my mom and I spent a considerable amount of time at Nordstrom. After I had The Boy and she passed away, I assumed I would be going solo at the Nordstrom. Not so.

If Not Coffee, What?

Do you remember Winona Ryder in Reality Bites explaining to Ben Stiller that all her sustenance for the day came from her Big Gulp? (Also, I had that haircut! It was really cute.) I am the same way but substitute coffee.

Yet I no longer want coffee. But I don't know where to turn then. I live on coffee and coffee type beverages. I don't really eat. If I quit the coffee, I'll gain a million pounds. I need something to fill the space that will be left if I cut back on the coffee, but what. Nothing appeals. I just want to get clean. Why is this so hard?

Take my husband, for example. He doesn't drink coffee or tea. Instead for breakfast he has orange juice and cereal. Ewww. And then for lunch he has a sandwich. Ewww. I can't be healthy. Last night I had all these bad dreams and all I can imagine is it is my body saying, "could we get a salad in here?" And no, we can't. Because I LOATHE lettuce. Argh. I need rehab. If they tried to make me go to rehab I would say yes yes yes.

Forced to Write

Let me state for the record - that is, before the rant - that my ex-husband is a good father. He's present, he participates and he and our son have a great relationship. We were fairly much a disaster together, but I have so much gratitude for his fathering our son.

However.

My son has trouble with the actual act of writing. His brain just can't get his hands to work in conjunction with all that is going on his brain. I'm not making this up. He was actually doing some tests for school and they figured this out. Anyway, one of the things you can do for this is to practice the physical act of writing.

So my ex makes him write for half an hour a night. I looked at my son's journal and I saw that what he was writing was a countdown until his writing time was over. Numbers. And last night when I called him over there he was pissed off because he was having to write. Ouch.

This is a kid who, not being forced to write, will, on his own accord, write short stories about being in hell and having to listen to the Dead Matthews Band. My personal favorite is about the cookie that rolled through town. I'm not sure forced writing is going to do us any favors. Then again, at my house I ask him to write in his journal and he takes five minutes to write two haikus and although we now have two lovely haikus, we have very little writing practice.

Consumers

Even though I no longer live in Texas, my best friends here are from Texas. No, they are nothing like the women on Big Rich Texas or Most Eligible Dallas (which I suspect is the more awkward Most Eligible Dallas rather than Dallas' Most Eligible because someone at Bravo wouldn't commit to Dallas' versus Dallas's).

However. They are consumers.

To wit: My best friend told me today that she goes to Starbucks twice before lunch. That's hard core.