Up-scale

The local boutique is named ‘Upscale Consignment’ which defines as relatively expensive and designed to appeal to affluent customers. The shop is actually inexpensive and services the surrounding mill town’s middle class. I ventured from our little village, in search of expensive designer label pants at an affordable price. I brought an old friend along, since we’ve been on a lot of shopping trips together.

Our journey’s purpose was to explore the consigned goods for a decent pair of slacks or denim. We searched my size on several racks, ignoring the flared bottoms, loud colors and cheap fabrics. The hunt produced three contenders and then I headed for the dressing room.

First up was a pair of capris that looked fun for a day at the beach. Unfortunately, only one thigh made its way into the material. I cursed Nautica for their ill-fitting tailoring as I pulled my leg back out like I was stripping off a pair of panty hose.

Next was a pair of straight-legged jeans. I slid my first leg all the way in and my ankles were perfectly showcased. I pulled the jeans up and realized my ankles would be the only body part fitting into them. My legs didn’t meet the requirements for skinny leg jeans.

The remaining pair of dress pants had to fit. All the pairs we selected were my size. Shopping was supposed to be easy; I usually buy off the rack and go on with my life.

The third pair was a designer label I often buy for work. They weren’t my classic side-zipped pant but very similar. I put them on with ease and looked in the mirror. A huge ass was staring back at me. There was junk in my trunk.

None of the slacks were designed to appeal, or fit. So much for upscale consignment. Besides, if I was an affluent customer, I wouldn’t be looking in a fun house mirror trying on someone else’s tragic, misshapen, undersized, closet knock-offs. Not that I was bitter but clothes shopping with my high school waistline wasn’t the weigh it used to be. I headed back to the village to find a mill, a treadmill.

High School #Haiku

Trigonometry

Mathematics on steroids

Relationships suck

Eye of the Tiger

We were on the field again in our maroon-and-black plaid skirts.  It was still the sport’s tradition but bloomers had been replaced with cotton shorts from the Army surplus store. In the future, the cotton shorts would improve to spandex.

My sister was an animal that had a passion for field hockey. I was a sprinter that loved to dribble the ball down the field. Every once in awhile, we both got stopped in our tracks. On this particular fall day, we Panthers fouled and the other team got a free hit. We stilled in our cleats, facing the now opponent’s ball readying to steal it back.

The result was another foul appropriately named ‘dangerous hit’.

I only remember a loud pop and falling to the ground. My sister remembers me rolling onto my back and watching in horror as my eyes instantly turned purple and red.

This girly-thought sport, more dangerous than most, had produced another contusion and concussion. Field hockey injuries were still a tradition despite shin guards and mouth pieces. In the future, the safety of the game would improve to include cages.

They would have protected my eyes but they couldn’t have contained my sister’s animalistic fury to finish the game and get a Panther win.

April Fools – Tournament Style

The High School season was over but we were still playing basketball on April 1.  AAU was year-round at that point in our lives so the excessive inside gym time might have been the catalyst. We were at yet another tournament with hundreds of other young aspiring athletes.

There can be long wait times between each scheduled game. The girls leave for lunch or the mall. They multi-task by doing their homework or busy themselves with random girl talk or naps.  Tarah had the added challenge of putting up with her mother.

I had to find things to do too. I’d already been to college…and I had an array of April Fool’s pranks up my un-uniformed sleeve. When I realized Tarah and I were in the bathroom by ourselves, I told her my idea. She went for it.

We locked all the stalls from the inside.

As fast as we could!

When we left, yet another game was breaking up. Two teams of teenage girls were headed to the ladies room. Tarah and I looked at each other with “don’t laugh” grins on our faces. We stayed in the lobby outside the door to see what happened. We could hear the girls chattering and they seemed to just be “waiting their turn”. Another game finished and a line formed out the door.

We heard commotion inside and joined the end of the line. We asked what was going on as three girls stormed out.

“All the doors are locked and we can’t even use the rest room!”

Hearing this, others left the line to seek out another ladie’s room in the college facility. We got back into the bathroom  and realized the tournament coordinators were falling in behind us. The girls inside were upset. One slammed a stall door on her way out of it. The player at the sink explained to the college coaches:

“The doors were locked from the inside, coach.  Nobody was even in here.  We didn’t realize it at first…and we had to climb under!”

The athletic director tried to calm the girls as Tarah and I eased our way back out. We dared not say a word until we were in our car. I’ll never forget our fit of laughter.  I didn’t know if my daughter would ever play college basketball but she’d co-captained one hell of an April Fool’s prank!

 

Copyright Donna L. Crowe, 2015

Red, here we come!

Ready to have a time in the square,,,

About a girl

Stefanie asked us if we wanted to take a “Journey” to NYC during Memorial Day weekend.  I told myself that I don’t usually travel on holiday weekends but this was Stefanie – and she was coming all the way to the East Coast.

 “Should I stay or should I go?”   If she knew I even considered not going, she’d tell me to go ‘straight to hell’.  After all, this wasn’t ‘Atlantic City’.  It was NEW YORK CITY.  

We’ve since all committed to the trip, bought our train tickets and reserved our accommodations.  “Nothing’s gonna stop us now.”

‘We care a lot’ about each other.  ‘Time after time.’  We also have a hell of a time together.  These are important girls in my lifetime and I’ve been sure to keep in touch with each of them.  Once, they told me I was the reason we were all still in touch.  It’s really because I’ve pretty much threatened them by insisting they ‘don’t forget about me’.

That hotel will not know what hit them.  We’ll go ‘everywhere’ and that will be our ‘house of fun’ when we return each night.

Our men won’t be with us but they’ll send us all on our way with a ‘french kiss’.  Once we get to the city, we’ll forget all about our guys and start in on our long overdue girl’s weekend.  Leaving the boys behind will work out since ‘we’ll be too drunk to f*?!’.  They know we can have fun ‘with or without you’.  Sorry boys, we won’t ‘need you tonight’ because ‘girl’s just want to have fun’.  We’ll need to ‘rock the casbah’ and let out a ‘primal scream’.  We’re all ‘under pressure’ and need to let off some steam.  The weekend will help us  all to come ‘back to life’.  

Stefanie will have so much fun that she won’t even miss that ‘Pacific state’.  It’ll be ‘the cure’ we need and ‘just like heaven’.

We will revert back to the 80’s and have a ‘teen age riot’.  We’ll be the ‘sonic youth’ we once were.  We’ll be crossing ‘the river’ and ‘going underground’.  What we won’t do is ‘pump up the volume’ of our hair and be a ‘sign of the times’.  

We’ll have our hot new age, pun intended, fashions and be ‘pretty in pink’.

‘Where is my mind?’  We aren’t ‘pixies’.

We’ll ‘jump’ into our little dresses, be ‘back in black’ and hail a yellow cab to the theatre district.  We’ll ‘sit down’ after our initial days of craziness and enjoy a ‘culture club’.  If we see any ‘boys of summer’ on our way out, that will just sweeten the curtain call.  They may want to be ‘hounds of love’ or a ‘temptation’ but we’ll need to be on our way.   We won’t need a ‘prince’.  This is our ‘once in a lifetime’ in a city where ‘there is a light that never goes out’.  

Instead, we’ll have a blast heading back to the Square.  We’ll find dessert at midnight, one of us will be sure to say ‘never let me down again’ and we’ll all shed some ‘teardrops’.

“What have I done to deserve this?”  I ‘can’t be sure’.  

Once we’ve added more laughter to the tears, we’ll look for ‘the killing moon’.  It will be  our own little ‘fairytale of new york’.  

We’ll need to create some of our own fun since our Jimmy Fallon tickets were cancelled.  Now, ‘That’s entertainment’.  

But don’t believe the hype.  There’s also a time in the wee hours of the next morning ‘when doves cry’.  

It’s when the fatigue and alcohol really have an impact and we tell ourselves not to ‘push it’ on the third day.  We’ll start ‘livin on a dream’ another way and go to a long leisurely brunch.  We’ll take in the ‘atmosphere’, ask each other to pass the ‘salt and pepa’ and try to find our other friend ‘billi jean’.  She’ll ‘walk this way’, and then we’ll remember she was ‘made of stone’ and laugh at ‘the clash’ of our personalities.  

‘It’s a sin’ but the next and final day will be ‘blue monday’.  ‘Love will tear us apart’.  

It will be sad but I’ll also be heading back to ‘this charmin man’.  It’ll be ‘like a prayer’ to go home to ‘the one I love’…and then it will turn into yet another one of those ‘Happy Mondays’.