Yesterday we went to Buckle for some jeans. A year ago I went to Buckle with Liz, though that was in Ft Worth. She introduced me to the store. I'm glad she did. Buckle is the only store I've been to (that involves clothes) where asking the employees for help will actually get you good results. They're always really knowledgeable and friendly. They do all the leg-work for you, so all you gotta do is stand in the fitting room until you find a pair of jeans you like.
I like this, since I find shopping for any form of clothing to be very stressful. In fact it's really sad how much I hate clothes shopping. To me, going around hauling armfuls of clothes (and this is after you've found the correct size, mind) and trying them on to make sure they look good on you is not fun. It's work, pure and simple.
The mall was packed. I'm not sure what I expected considering it was a Saturday. The first Saturday of the month of December on top of it. It was emotionally exhausting being around all those people!
Next was the bra's. We stopped at Victoria's Secret. Even thinking about going in made my wallet cringe. I got a fitting since I knew my cup size had changed, and sure enough it had. I went from a C to a DD. Which sounds all great if you're a guy, but it was terrible for me. I'd been wear 2 cup sizes too small for probably over a year now. And because of the expensive prices at VS all I could afford was one bra. (Even not counting that, all the other bras I didn't like much anyway.)
Before I got to either of those stores though, I was surprised to see a kiosk for Threading. I was very excited, so much so that I think I gave the impression I was impatient while I waited for my turn. It was a long wait. The lady before me was being super picky and it took forever for her to be satisfied. I like my hair to be trimmed, but otherwise natural, so it didn't take her long to finish with me.
The results are good. I think she did a very nice job. Right now I'm just keeping an eye on my skin. For some reason, any sort of hair removal around my eyebrows causes inflammation. In the case of waxing, I break out terribly. (I look like I have chicken pox!) Threading is suppose to be much more gentle on the skin, so here's hoping! :D
Mike insisted on printing out our wedding photos. We've been married for almost 8 years and we're just now getting around to it. He felt like there was something wrong with us for not having our wedding photos printed. (I really don't care....)
We went through Walmart since they're close and have an hour-ready service. When we went to pick them up, the lady was like "Were these done by a professional?" You could tell by how she said it she was about to say something very unpleasant and she knew it. So I say "Uhm, well... he was a friend of the family's doing it at a discount.." At which point we learn that--apparently--there's this new copyright thing that requires photo developers to get written permission from original photographer (who's professional) to reprint the photos.
Mike and I were pretty shocked. Since when had you needed permission to print out your photos for your home? We weren't mad at the worker, she's just telling us the policy. Mostly we were just confused. Because we were so nice about it, not losing our tempers and going into fits of rage like she expected us to, she gave us the photos anyway. She did give us a stern warning, though, that we needed to have permission next time. (She was risking her job by letting this go.)
What a stupid policy! I can't understand if they asked "If this is professional, and you plan on using this for commercial use, we need permission first." But if you're just printing the photos for home use, which the implied reason for having the photos taken to begin with, it shouldn't be a problem. Just make people sign a waver say they're only using it for home, not commercial. Seriously. STUPID. :-/
Every place we went to was packed. By the end of it I thought Mike (who hates crowds) was gonna choke something. I was glad to get home and away from the crowds!
No comments:
Post a Comment