So, I fell into an alternate reality today.
I have spent literally days, in the past, trying on jeans, hoping something fits. Hoping something doesn't make my already awkward body look even worse. Coming home empty handed and feeling defeated.
But of course, today I went with Husband, with whom everything always works out smoothly. No-traffic-in-New-England-on-Labor-Day, no-lines-at-the-airport, everything-is-magically-on-sale-when-he-shops Husband. So of course, today, when we got to the mall, the first store we entered to try shopping for jeans had them on sale. I usually start least expensive and work my way up until I find something that works for jeans, so I started with the ones that were marked down to $25. Neither pair were my usual style or wash, but I always start cheapest, just in case. And lo and behold! The first two pairs of jeans I tried on fit great! And looked great too! This only took about 10 minutes! Husband was still looking around so I continued to look at other jeans just in case (although I really only needed two pairs), and I eventually found a pair that were just like one of the first pairs I tried on but in a better wash, so I switched those ones. But seriously, I have never had so much luck shopping for jeans. Ever. It took us about 20 minutes and $100 to come home with 4 pairs of jeans (two each) that we were incredibly happy with. I'm never shopping without Husband again.
In skinny news, I'm at the point where I can't complain to my friends about my weight. Not that I like to do that anyway, but as of about a year ago, if my friends (who are also not fat, but not tiny) started to talk about weight and looks, I could chime in and agree that I would like to lose a couple of pounds. Well, those couple of pounds are gone, and then some, and the other day, we were remarking about clothing choices and I mentioned how I would like to be a few pounds smaller before wearing a certain style, and I got completely scoffed at. As if I could never want to be skinnier than I am.
And yet, I still am having trouble coping with the fact that in less than one month I am going to be in Florida, in a swim suit, probably embarrassing the hell out of myself.