New Pants, No Plot, No Problems

I now have a new happy place to go when I’m feeling terrible about my physical appearance: The United Colors of Benetton.

It’s a clothing store that has a location near to my work place. You may know them from their colorful, multicultural advertising concept. Shopping there always reminds me of my semester abroad, as Benetton was founded in Italy.

There’s a Sephora near it, so first I go give myself a free makeover from the “tester” products, and then I head over looking like a put-together professional person. The sales people fawn over me. They tell me that I’d better not dare lose a pound, because if I do, then that pair of pants they convinced me to try on won’t make my bum look as fabulous as it does today. They tell me that I have the perfect body type, a blend of slender and curvaceous. The man says that I’ve been wearing clothes that are much too big for me, and need to grab pieces that are more tailored (i.e. tighter). He says that there is no reason my closet should be full of “Mediums” when I am clearly a “Small”. His associate tells me she wishes she had a body like mine (despite the fact that she looks like an ethnic version of the popular Hollywood stick figure… The grass still looks a bit more verdant to me on her side of the fence).

Yes, I realize that it is their job to sell me things. Yes, I know that it’s in their best interest to flatter me. But I like to put that knowledge out of my head. It makes me feel good about myself (compliments are always easier for me to take when they come from strangers). I walk in and become a paper doll that they can dress up as they wish. Most days that I go in there, I successfully walk out empty handed. I add the items I liked onto a mental list of things to consider purchasing, and if I haven’t forgotten about them after a couple of days, then I begin to stalk them until they go on sale (which, at Benetton, they inevitably will before the season ends).

On my most recent trip, however, I did not walk out empty handed, as I had intended. Instead, I spent more money in one day (and in one store) than I ever had on clothing before. And I only walked out with three new additions to my wardrobe. Eek! But they’re good purchases, I think. I bought a lovely red dress that I can wear to my birthday celebration this week. I bought a pair of “winter white” corduroy pants (that’s what the salesman called them) that I think are fashionable and work appropriate (and they were on sale). And I bought a scandalously tight pair of black pants (the aforementioned pants that make my bum look fabulous) that make me feel like Sandy at the end of “Grease” (which I would have normally stalked, but they were the last pair in the store, and I couldn’t take the risk). I will be wearing those out dancing, and I am most excited about it (I have a great love of tight pants, probably stemming back to the elementary school days when I wore leggings as pants. Loose-fitting pants make me feel somehow unclothed).

I also bought an iPod this week. A black 80-gig classic. I am completely in love.

So my savings account got a good chunk taken out of with within just a few days. You know what? It was time. I needed to use some of the cash that I’ve been attempting to hoard in the bank. So yes, I spent an obscene amount of money on two pair of pants, a dress, and a music player all in one week. But now that I’ve gotten it out of my system, I think I’m less likely to let the money trickle out through little leaks until the wall breaks and my bank account floods into oblivion. This is definitely better than that. This was the responsible choice, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Occasionally, my money goes down the tubes in much more frustrating ways. Today, for example, when I stopped at a Noodles & Co. to grab myself some mushroom stroganoff for dinner. I was very excited by the prospect of eating it. And then I got on the bus with all my bags (some used books, a shirt, an inflatable mattress… more things that I feel were good ways to spend money). And as soon as I got off of the bus, I realized I’d left one bag behind. I tried to run back, but the bus sped away, with my mushroom stroganoff in a bag under the seat. Tragic. I hope a homeless person found it, so that at least it won’t have gone completely to waste. I’m sure it would’ve been delicious.

I made myself some macaroni and cheese (spirals, which somehow taste better than any other shape, despite them being basically the same thing), and sat down at my computer to watch some episodes of various television programs that I hadn’t seen (on account of my not having a television set). It was a satisfactory way to waste an evening.

Other than watching new-to-me-TV (which is usually “Heroes”, “The Office”, the effervescent “Pushing Daisies”, and the why-am-I-still-watching-this show “Gossip Girl”) and shopping for things that I would argue I need, I spent most of the weekend reading, writing, and thinking about writing.

Two weeks left before November, and I’m already freaking out about NaNoWriMo (see entry “Body Budget & Bridget” for explanation). I tried to come up with a plot, but I’ve got nothing. My original plan was just to write in the voice of a character and see where it took me, but that suddenly doesn’t seem substantial enough. I feel like I should go the storyboard route, but I really have nothing to write about. I have writer’s block, and I have not yet begun to write.

I keep sketching characters on notepads and napkins, and giving them names and personality traits. I’m hoping that some of them will start to stick. And they have. A few of the more interesting ones I just keep drawing over and over again. There are now five characters that I’m starting to get a feel for. If only I could come up with things for them to do...

I need a plot. I know I do. If I don’t have one, then I will have no motivation to keep writing. I’ve thought about expanding a plot from a short story I wrote several years ago, but that feels like cheating. I’m creative. I’m original. I should be able to come up with something new and exciting. And yet here I am, with nary a good idea (plenty of mediocre ideas, but nothing that’s jumping out as being “right”).

I was thinking about putting pieces of paper into a bowl with random, intense events on them. Then, every five pages or so into writing, I could pull one out. Suddenly, someone “loses their job.” Surprisingly, someone is “pregnant.” Sadly, I’m pretty sure that this would produce garbage. So I’ve nixed the idea. I can do better than that. I hope.

I don’t know why I’m so worried about this novel being terrible. It’s not like anyone is going to read it (honestly… even if I made it available to people, who would want to read a 175-page work of fiction that I wrote with an impossible deadline? It’s as enticing of a proposal as eating a bucketful of grey paste). Still, I hold myself to high standards. And I constantly fail to live up to them. Maybe I should ease up on myself this time. I mean, I don’t have a story to tell when I start one of these blog entries, but I always find more than enough to write about. Why should a novel be any different or more daunting?

Well, I’m off to dreamland.

May you have a body that others dream of, some wiggle room in your bank account, and a plot worth writing.

Much love,

~A~

P.S. In case you’re really into my blog and you have something like an iGoogle or My Yahoo homepage, I now have an RSS feed:
feed://feeds.feedburner.com/angelaboration
To add it to iGoogle (I don’t know how any other site works… I’m a Google girl), click “Add stuff” in the upper right. Then, instead of “Search Homepage Content”, hit the little link that says “Add by URL”, and input this:
http://feeds.feedburner.com/angelaboration
Hopefully, that should work. Although, really, I’m a technological half-wit, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve done something wrong there. I wish you luck.

P.P.S. I have a new favorite song of the moment. It’s called “True Affection” by The Blow, and at the moment you can listen to it on my Project Playlist at the top of the page (although I change up those songs now and again, so it might not still be there in a few weeks). I love the chorus: “I was out of your league/and you were twenty thousand underneath the sea/waving affections/You were out of my league/at a distance that I didn’t want to see/down to the bottom.” It’s empowering to think that break-ups happen because you were too good for the relationship. Not that I think that about either of my past relationships, but it’s still sort of a positive take on a negative thing. A way to rise above the wreckage. As the song says, “Just because it’s real don’t mean it’s going to work.”