Short Pants Got No Reason

So I ordered a bunch of new outfits from Ulla Popken, a catalogger/online retailer that I have really liked in the past. Because I'm a big broad, finding good clothes has never been easy, and I like Ulla's blend of lovely details with quality fabrics and construction.

But I'm a mite peeved this time. I'm tall, and I almost always opt to buy my pants with the "Tall" size rather than "Average". I picked out a couple of Ulla suits that I really had coveted from looking at the catalog photos -- one a navy pinstripe with white piping, the other a grey glen plaid with a long blazer. Both suits came with just ridiculously short pants. The catalog said a 30" inseam, but when I actually got out the tape measure (after trying them on and gasping) the navy pants had a scant 28" inseam, while the plaid ones were barely 29" -- and that's a LOT when it comes to pants, especially since "a great length" for me is usualoly 32" or even 33".

Grrrrrr.

So I called Ulla Popken, spoke to a very nice customer service rep, who gave me the most bizarre reason for the shorties: It seems that they make the inseam SHORTER as the sizes get BIGGER. And their "average length" (as in, "the length the catalog lists as the actual length")is really just the length for the size smaller than I had ordered.

Which made me think, since their sizes went up three more from what I ordered, did the biggest size come with a 22" inseam?

Jeez Louise.

After much thinking about it, I decided, what the hell. I kept both suits, and I just wear them both with aplomb, with ankle pants, as the style.

But man! A dream of mine is to someday find a way to get nice pant suits that really and truly FIT me.

Which makes me think about tailoring -- I have never had anything tailored. I've been chicken, thinking it'd be too expensive. (OK, not true -- I did have a dress "altered" when I bought it from Harper Greer in San Francisco, and it felt like SUCH a luxury! But that's it.)

In my dreams, I could even find someone who knows how to sew, who could copy two different very simply constructed suits I own -- but make the pants, sleeves, and jacket just a bit longer. I would love that.

Sigh... this is what happens when you exist beyond the bell curve of normal size. But I wouldn't want to trade it for anything! I am happy with myself, I am who I am and I don't ever want to be just like everyone else.

a vile vacation

So it's Monday, and I've just wasted two vacation days... I took Friday and Monday off to relax. OK, I did get to do some of that. My house is clean, tidy, I even did a minimal amount of redecorating..

but now the husband's back in the hospital. We're pretty sure this is Visit Ten to our local medical center, after back surgery complications, knee replacement, MSRA, complications, knee replacement, gall bladder, complications, and more complications. Hopefully this is where we start to turn life around.

The weird thing is that Hubby has been working on projects for a guy who I believe will be the Susan Powter of the 2010's - ok, maybe he'll do better than her (hopefully! What ever happened to Susan Powter after her fall from grace?) but this guy's sharp. And, hanging around with a leading proponent of physical fitness, when your physical condition is... poor... is odd. So we'll see what happens.

musings on shameless self promotion

It strikes me that some "blogs" are deadly boring to read, even if they have an audience of sorts. One that comes immediately to mind is http://blogs.firsttechcu.com/. I use this as my classic example of a "fashion don't" -- it's June 16, and the l;ast post was April 3, and the whole thing is deadly dull -- absolutely and obviously written by a "marketing communications department" at the credit union. It's newsletter pablum! Blah!

I struggle with this at my job, because I work in financial services --and you'd better believe that "we" (in the Corporate-Royal-WE sense) frown on mavericks talking about "our organization" on the Internet. But, I love this company, and I KNOW that this is an organization that's passionately committed to building financial success for our members... but... blogging about stuff like that is dicey and puts me on thin ice.

So, 'nuff about work-related ponderings, except to point you to www.youngfreelaberta.com, which is a credit union that does a killer job of connecting with their members. I love this site, I'm addicted to it.

sunday with options on the side

From the Library right now: Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea - Chelsea Handler

On the Zen: Drums of Autumn - Diana Gabaldon

I'm just killing time until I've got my Creative Zen reloaded -- no iPod for me. My Zen only has 4GB of storage, which IS woefully inadequate -- but an iPod was not an option because you can't use it for audiobooks from the library. And i am a total audiobook junkie.

Here's a quick customer service story about Creative -- http://www.creative.com/:

I bought a $34 DC charger for my Zen V Plus. The thing has a fat transformer socket plug, a long cord -- and at the end of the cord, a little 2" piece that's a USB2 plug on one end (that goes into the Zen) and a proprietary plug that connects to the cord on the other.

Well, the USB2 end snapped off, rendering the gizmo useless. So I contacted Creative, eventually ending up talking to a guy I figured was in India (from his accent). I explained the issue, and asked if they could just sell me the little 2" plug, not an entire new $34 unit.

The guy goes, "I know exactly what piece you mean -- but my inventory check shows that we do not have this piece in stock. However, I have an extra one of these plugs at home that I am not using. Can you please hold -- I am going to ask my supervisor if it's okay for me to just send this to you."

Okay... now I'm a little speechless. Sure enough, the supe says yes, and three days later, a receive a handwritten envelope, sent First Class Mail, postmarked in Kansas, with my FREE part inside and a little note on a Post-It -- "we appreciate your business."

Guess you could say I'm now a totally loyal Creative customer. Because of great customer service.

No good deed goes unpunished

Somebody mentioned this to me yesterday about a situation I'm dealing with. When you try to do something that's "good" but you end up getting bitten in the ass... ugh. It's just not fun.

I've been really cranky today! You ever have one of those days when people just need some slapping?

At least my dog is really fabulous. That always counts for something!

Taos, Ojo Caliente, and Cops (and Space Bunnies)

Ayla and I did a road trip down to the Land of Enchantment, and visited Taos, New Mexico. It was just the BEST weekend, really felt like a lot longer than just a few days. And it was just lovely bonding time with her, just wonderful.

First, the FOOD was just unreal. Literally. I mean, from our very first meal on the road, we just had one incredibly tasty meal after another. That includes the breakfast burritos from Sonic in Walsenberg. That surprised us, it was like real food!

We left before dawn on Friday morning, heading south on I-25 through curls of fog. Ayla had made a great mix CD with a bunch of my favorites and hers. Some Queen, some choir songs, some classical, some new stuff. Some singalong stuff. We had a blast in the car.

Approaching Taos, the landscape started shifting, and we came across "classic" New Mexico-looking places with chiles hanging by the doors, etc. Got to town, got a bit oriented, and found a cheap little motel called the Indian Hills Inn that was staffed with just ridiculously nice people. The manager was like a movie character of a good motel manager. He put us in a room "right next to Grandmother Willow" -- a ginormous old willow tree, right out our window. I mean, functional and plain, but still charming in its way (and I mentioned cheap, right? Which always sways me).

Ayla and I went exploring, bopped around the town, drove out into the hills and got semi-lost. We asked the motel guys "where do the local folks eat?" and they directed us to this kind of crummy-looking Mexican restaurant, one of those places with a plastic-lettered signboard over the front counter where you order and then they bring you your food. Our food arrived, and we both went ga-ga over how totally GOOD it was. I mean, it made us laugh, it was so good. We started trying to figure out WHY -- was it the air? The water? No idea.

Slept like rocks that night.

Next morning, we got up and drove across a lonely gravel road to Ojo Caliente, a hot springs resort that was one of the best I've ever been to. Kind of a longish drive, especially on a gravel road -- but it was FUN. We soaked and lazed and soaked and snoozed and soaked some more -- because they have a bunch of different pools, all with supposedly differnt mineral properties. Then we had to drive back late in the afternoon.

So, we're on this gravel road, buzzing along, and suddenly, I think there's a helicopter hovering right over the car, out of nowhere -- this loud, blap-blap-blap-blap sound. Then the steering goes all hinky, and I realize (while going about 50) that we've had a tire blowout. Not a soul in sight on the road.

Pulled over safely, and Aylie and I climb out to inspect the damage. That back tire was SHREDDED -- it was GONE (and I thought I had reacted pretty fast!).

Marty calls us "Bunnies in a Spaceship" when it comes to "man stuff" like tool-required repairs. He insists that Ayla and I are... shall we say... "ill-equipped" to deal with any sort of mechanical issue. But, here we were, in the flat-ass middle of nowhere between Ojo Caliente (a bump in the road) and Taos (somewhat bigger than a bump in the road).

No problem! We're Bunnies in Space -- we can HANDLE this!

So, we put on the flashers (in case there's a RARE chance that one other car just might come tooling along the road, and maybe not see us stuck there -- I mean, it was EMP-TY), opened the back of the Explorer, and started hauling out the stuff to change the tire.

*I* even *READ THE DIRECTIONS*. Seriously.

Ayla and I had it TOTALLY under control. We high-fived each other -- "Yay! Bunnies In Space CAN Change a Tire!") and I started with the tire iron on loosening the lug nuts. (See? I even know they're called "lug nuts" -- hah!). That's when the red and blue lights started flashing behind us.

So, now we've got a Taos County Sherriff on the scene. NICE guy. He takes a look at this Colorado mom-and-daughter pair (and, of course, we're totally law-abiding, as is my nature) -- and he's ready to help. So he takes over the tire-changing.

Then, the jack falls over, because the gravel is so soft. That's when Cruiser #2 pulls up. Now, I've got THREE Sherriff's deputies, me and Ayla -- the biggest crowd outside of town. One of the deputies offers to head down to the barracks to get their floor jack (the barracks is apparently only a few miles away). So, Ayla and I stand there making chat with the two guys who remained -- they were just amazingly NICE guys.

Made me thing about the series "COPS" -- the people those cops always have to deal with are total slimeballs and scumbags. Here we were, just a couple of nice, average, suburban females, getting help, gratefully, from a bunch of cops! Hot day, even for springtime -- but when it was done, I promised to send the Sergeant a thank-you letter, which I did. Those deputies were probably the best "advertisement" for the Land of Enchantment there could possibly be -- above and beyond service, nice, friendly, helpful (and above all, helpful).

The Spaceship Bunnies got back into our ship, waved a happy goodbye, and drove back to Taos.

And that is why I'd like to do another trip to Taos -- because of the people (especially the cops).

red, white and books

I've been on a total Revolutionary War jag recently. Started when I read Founding Brothers, which gave me a real aha moment: all those old, white-haired, powdered-wig farts who were the first string of Presidents -- well, most of them were in their 30's and 40's during the Revolution.

So, I started reading about Washington. I never realized he was so flippin tall! 6'4" 200-plus years ago was a HUGE giant man. Dashing and brave. He had to create an army out of nothing but promises and farmboys. No supplies, no decent weapons, not skilled soldiers... and yet, there were some totally crafty generals working for him.

Then I grabbed a slew of biographies -- Jefferson, Adams, Franklin (his autobiography was a rolicking great read)... what brave men they were.

When you look at those stern, formal, frozen faces on the money... it just doesn't come across, does it?

Moving on... down the street

We've fnally decided to move. Oddly enough, we're only heading three blocks down the same street. Weird, I know -- but the deal made sense to us. Damn, I had forgotten (or blocked out) how much work is involved in moving! But it's okay -- new horizons. Onward and upward.

Hooray and such

Thank God, we made it to the New Year -- and the family still has an even number of legs! They beat the infection, Marty's got his shiny new knee ---- and, just as soon as we got him home from the hospital on New Year's Eve, we ended up having to turn right around and take him back in, because his gall bladder was a mess and needed to be yanked. I mean, is there no end???

But he has his leg, that's what matters most. More recovery time ahead.

D-day right after Xmas

Marty's next surgery is finally scheduled -- for Dec. 27. That's when we find out if they beat the MRSA infection -- or not. If it's "not" -- then he loses his leg. It they cleared it up, he gets a new prosthetic knee joint, and then we keep our fingers crossed for like two years.

It should be a good Christmas, but definitely overshadowed by the worry. Need to just stay positive and hope for the best. We could really use a Christmas miracle.