are things complicated yet?

This is just one of my many bad fashion decisions from the 80's

I've been wearing glasses since the second grade.  When my mother first noticed that perhaps her darling daughter couldn't see, she took me to the optometrist in the mall (Pearl Vision yo!) to get checked out. 

I did not want glasses.  At all.  It probably didn't help that my mom started the conversation with, "Hmm, I think you might need glasses."  I swore up and down that I could see just FINE and I didn't need any geeky, nerdy stupid glasses.

I was also about 8 years old and didn't know any better.

We went and confirmed that I was not anywhere close to 20/20 vision.  I was really upset.   Looking back, I'm not really sure why I was so upset but I think it had something to do with the fact that anyone on TV who wore glasses was a stereotypical nerdy character like that Velma girl on Scooby-Doo.

Anyway, to soften the blow my mother told me that I could have any frames I wanted.  Any!  In the whole store!  And you know what I said?

"I can?!  You mean....they don't have to be on sale?"

We were a family that preferred to buy things on sale.  Even at the age of 8 I knew that a sure way to get my mom to buy me something was if I said, "But Mom.  It's ON SALE."  When she told me I could have full price glasses I knew this was a special day.

And what did I choose with all of that buying power?  Something snazzy?  Stylish?  Flattering?  Maybe even bedazzled?

NO.  I DID NOT CHOOSE ANY OF THOSE.

I chose a licensed pair of glasses by Pink Panther (????) that were pink and white and very big and round.  Granted, I loved pink.  (To my credit, big and round glasses were sort of in in the 80's.) But someone should have told me that Pepto-pink is not for glasses and definitely not for glasses on me.  Have you ever seen a more awkward second grader with reading skills far above her grade level?

I mean, REALLY. 

When we went to get the glasses I was startled at how much I could actually see.  You have to remember, up until then I didn't know that the way I saw the world wasn't normal.  My mother walked me out of that place and I just kept exclaiming over and over again,

"Mom!  I can SEE!!!  I can SEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" 

The way I was prancing out of that mall with my Pink Panther glasses you would have thought I was a miracle Helen Keller or something.

My parents thankfully let me wear contacts in the 7th grade (which also mysteriously coincided with my rise in popularity at school) and I've been wearing them ever since.  I don't wear glasses often and don't have too many problems with contacts. 

(I've never really believed the hype about laser surgery.  I know far too many people who had to wear contacts at a lower prescription afterwards or even had the surgery slowly wear off over the years.  Also, the idea of lasers on my eyes give me nervous tummy - thanksbutno.)

I had several different frames through grade school and most were big and round with brown/pink colors.

Allow me to present the third grade and my awesome ponytails:

 

And, the sixth grade: 

(Shut up, you know you had awesome bangs like this too.) 

(And NO, I will not post a picture from the seventh grade when I got a perm the summer before.  Just....no.)

Finally, in about 1995 I got some very simple wire frames and I never strayed back to thick plastic frames.  HOORAY FOR ME.  Ever since, the biggish plasticky frames have always carried a nuance of,

"Don't go back there.  It's like the bangs and the purple legwarmers and jelly shoes.  Don't even think about doing that again.  The 80's are O-V-E-R."

Flash forward to today - more than 20 years later.  Last week when I was choosing frames for the 8th or 9th time, I paused.  My first instinct was to go for another version of simple wire frames. 

But since all the cool kids are finally wearing them, I felt like it was time to take another look at plastic and try some of those edgy, chunky styles that everyone seems to loving.  I couldn't go all the way with some really squared off, thick frames but I like these well enough. (And thank you to everyone who said I should go for it.  You totally pushed me over the edge.)

For a person who comes from a scary history with big, thick, plastic pink glasses I think these are a HUGE improvement from the Pink Panther frames.  It only took me 22 years to get here.  Phew. 

Kicking 30's ass...easier than it looks

I turned 30 last week.

It seems so...momentous, doesn't it?  Like it's SUCH A BIG DEAL.  As if I should either be in the midst of mid-life crisis or celebrating in an extreme fashion with a grand soiree and a new party dress.  30 is, after all, a BIG birthday.  It merits attention.

30. 

To tell you the truth, I hadn't been contemplating my thirtieth birthday very much.  I've had other things going on in my life (um, BABY comes to mind).  About two weeks ago I thought, "HEY!  I have a birthday coming up!  That means I get a cake!"  A few hours later it dawned on me that I would be 30 and perhaps I ought to make a bigger deal.

Maybe a big cake?

Perhaps it doesn't really mean much to me in a hyperventilating kind of way because, and I can't believe I'm putting in print and thereby jinxing it, I have everything I've ever wanted.

Yes, I am that bitch who brags. (Don't hate!)

But really, I have things I wasn't sure I would ever have in my life and I feel so incredibly blessed.  I am truly beyond thankful for the joys in my life.  I have an amazing husband, who loves me in spite of my many flaws.  I have a daughter who is more gorgeous and wonderful and funny than I ever thought a baby could be.  We have a roof over our heads.  Our dog is hilarious.  And sometimes?  I turn our house all kinds of Norman Rockwell and I bake cookies.  Good ones.

30 isn't kicking me in the butt.  I'm kicking 30's ass.  I welcome 30.  I even vacuumed and tidied up the house for its arrival. 

The truth is that I enjoyed my twenties immensely and I don't feel like I've left anything on the table.  Everything a person could do in her twenties?  I did it.  I kissed my twenties goodbye without any reservations or regrets.  I had an awful lot of fun in my twenties. (Some might say it was too much fun.) 

I went to bars.  After looking at some pictures it would seem that I went to lot of bars.  (Ok, maybe TOO MANY bars but we're not going to talk about that part.) I wore skirts that were a little too short.  I actually invested in a wide variety of clothes suitable ONLY for bars.  They were either skimpy, glittery, strappy or all of those qualities at the same time.  Almost all of them were black.

I wore very high, tippy heels almost everywhere I went, including work.  I traveled maniacally and without concern for the fact that I was spending money meant for car insurance on airfare.  I ate rice and noodles a lot for dinner.

I also did not-so-fun things everyone does in their 20's:  I lived in cheap apartments.  I drove an old car.  I worked a shit job.  I frequently was the owner of a single-digit checking account balance.  (In my early 20's.  Not two weeks ago.)  I didn't even own a computer or have internet at my apartment until 2005.  (But I was FAMILIAR with the internet and used it at work.  OF COURSE.)

So, Hello Thirty.  Welcome.  Let's have a good decade.  Claire will be 10 when I'm 40 and who knows what life will look like then?  Hopefully, less bar-y.  I have a kid.  I can't go to the bar every night anymore. 

Didn't you hear?  I'M THIRTY.

(One thing's for sure:  Barack Obama will not be the President in 10 years.  See?  Already something to look forward to at my next Big Birthday.)

And now, I give you some photos that I have scrounged from a pile of burned CDs that I found in a drawer that say things like, "Jenn's Party!!!!!!" on them in sharpie. 

Memories!

*************

I don't know what's going on here, but I thought it was a funny picture.  I think I'm about 23.

Remember when I said I went to a lot of bars and traveled?  Here I am dancing in a bar in Maui.  I'm 23 or 24.

Hey look!  Another bar!  Another city!  This time I'm in New Orleans.  I'm 25.  I'm the one in the big hat.  (Man, I love big hats.)  We are holding Hurricanes in to-go cups.  Because they let you do that in New Orleans:  just walk around the city with really boozy drinks in paper cups.

One of the things about your 20's is that most of the moments you want to take pictures are when you're IN A BAR. 

Coincide that with the era when digital cameras got affordable and, well, I have a lot of pictures of me in bars in my 20's.

I wouldn't have it any other way.  Dude, bars are fun.

 

I wish to tell you this purely as a matter of Public Information

Did you know that if you order something that is monogrammed or personalized from Pottery Barn Kids and it shows up and there's something screwy with it, that if it's less than $50 YOU GET TO KEEP IT?!

Yes.

The policy is apparently if something is engraved/monogrammed/whatever and it shows up with "poor workmanship" you just have to call, say it looks bad and they'll send you a replacement.

"You can keep the seconds since it's less than $50."

So, now I have TWO "Claire's First Christmas" stockings.  (I know, how utterly useless.)  But the point is that if you were a devious sort of person you could conceivably order something and then just say that it's messed up and get another for free.

If you were a devious person.  Which I know you are not.  I'm just saying.  PBK has some great customer service on that one.

In other news, Claire has taken to catnapping for twenty minutes, is wearing size two diapers, and is two months old yesterday. 

Claire:  Taking the whole theme of TWO a little too far, aren't we?  Maybe we can sleep for two hours at a time?  That would fit within your theme and work out better for Mommy.

Aaaand that's all the blogging I'm allowed to do right now apparently.  So instead of letting this post sit in my drafts folder I'll go ahead and publish it and hope I can write some more later.  Because there is LOADS to tell.

Being selfish for all the right reasons

We travel a lot.  At least twice a month - often more.  Our "season" starts up in September with college football games, transitions quickly to Thanksgiving and Christmas and then January with an always-much-needed vacation.

But the weekend road trips, quick getaways, impromptu visits to see family a few hours down the highway - they were taking a toll on us.  In a way it was exciting to use our glorious, semi-newlywed, child-free time this way.  We were doing whatever we wanted, just because we can.

We were the envy of our friends with children.  I admit, I might have been obnoxious about it a few times to a few people I don't care for.   But there's no denying that two incomes, no kids and a very self-sufficient dog leaves us flexible with our time.  Why not travel?  Why not have fun?

The glut of opportunity was far too much for us to handle.  During the work week we raced about trying to do all of the things that should have happened over the weekend: laundry, yard work, errands, grocery shopping, bill paying and playing with the dog.

Traveling so much really made it hard to keep our household running in anything that even resembled a semi-orderly fashion.  The dishes piled up, soon there were only condiments left in the fridge and there was often the cry of "I only have one clean sock!"  Emergency Laundry on Sunday was the (terribly painful) norm.

Clearly we needed to change our habits.  Dramatically.

In February we decided that we simply weren't going to travel as much.  We would refuse invitations and opportunities, stand our ground when someone tried to guilt us into a several-hours drive and we would even take fewer vacations.  (Gasp!)

The weekends suddenly appeared before us as a long string of newly discovered pearls.  We gleefully turned page after page in the calendar and were jointly thrilled with the seemingly endless blank squares.  With nothing planned we reveled in exactly that: doing nothing. 

We laid in the hammock, grilled steaks, took naps, made pancakes (oh so many pancakes), organized our belongings and got ahead on the laundry for the first time in months.  We planned healthy meals to cook, got caught up in Lost again (such a bad idea) and took Jake for regular jaunts around the block.

As it turns out, shunning everyone we know was a marvelous idea.  Who knew?

We're slowly falling back into to our old ways though.  A wedding here.  A weekend at the lake there.  Plus a weekend getaway for our 2-year anniversary.  Plans to go to an Astros game with the family.  Oh - and also to Iowa to see the family there too.  Can't leave them out. 

It's like a progressive addiction - the more we start traveling, the more excuses we find to do it more often. 

It's tough to find an appropriate balance.  Besides the trips that we want to take, there are also the trips that we're not-so-excited about but feel that we have to embark on.

I often find that our DINK status makes us presumed travelers in these situations.  Many people think it's easier for us (our responsibility even) to visit them since we have a seemingly endless supply of time and no college educations to save for just yet.

It's an unspoken one-way street.  If we don't make an effort to see certain people, well then, we just don't get to see them at all.  They won't come visit us. (It makes me wonder why we want to see them in the first place.)

This completely infuriates me - especially if I get a guilt trip about it. 

Our decision to dramatically scale back was in part derived from this predicament.  Now that we've tasted the sweet freedom that is the luxury of our own time, we're hesitant to share again.

It was a long way (literally) to learn the lesson about balancing a surfeit of time.  After actually living in our house for an entire month it has become painfully clear that this new routine is waaaaay more fun than a sack of tacos and a weekend in the car.

So, we're going to try and stick with the original plan:  don't travel as much and don't make up reasons to travel just because we can.  Enjoy the comfortable life we've created for ourselves and spend less time in the airport.  Sounds like a good plan to me.

As a bonus to this decision, Jake ought to be pleased that we're not planning on any more road trips for a while since he pretty much has a panic attack any time he's put in a vehicle.  And, keeping this animal happy is, of course, my life's goal.

(Not really.  That would make me one of those weird animal ladies who gives her dog bottled water and makes him wear clothes.)

Enlighten me.

There is something about New York City that I don't quite get. I'm missing whatever it is about this city that makes people write songs and wax poetic and perhaps most puzzling of all, want to live here.

Every time I come to this city I am initially excited.  About what I have no idea.  The excitement always fades quickly to flat out frustration once I get on the plane.

Flights to New York City are a bit, um, different.  Have you noticed?

First of all, about 70% of the passengers are elite members.  They all try to board at the same time, thus eliminating any perceived privilege of boarding early and in peace.  Everyone also feels that they are The Most Important Passenger On Board Today.  I've never seen so many egos crammed into such a small area; it's a wonder they fit in the first place.

Which brings us to another matter of space - everyone on flights to New York also carries on too much baggage.  I saw a man carry on a rolling hanging bag that was the size of Jake!  I am not exaggerating!  It was a full size bag!  And they let him take it on board!

It took 90 minutes for our bags to arrive to the carousel.  (So that's why everyone carried their bags on.)  I was treated to my second ever celebrity sighting at bag claim though - Donald Sutherland.  I would have enjoyed it more if it was J. Lo or an Olsen twin rather than a creepy old man with too-long white hair but I'll take what I can get.

(By the way, Donald Sutherland uses a Motorola Razr, was traveling with a very sassy looking Asian woman who is not his wife and was much younger than him and a troop of helpers to attend to the bags.)

The rest of our days in New York were predictable: chilly weather, strange taxi drivers, good meals, sporadic bouts of fluffy snow that turned into dirty mush.  There was also the delightful feeling that we were bleeding large amounts of money from the soles of our feet wherever we went.  Because DAMN this city is expensive!

To wit:  I ordered up some room service and the bottle of water?  Is one liter and cost $7.50.

For my money I can have a much better time elsewhere.  (I'm thinking....Maui!)  I think I'm done with New York for good this time.  Bleh.

Losing my digital self

Have you ever lost your digital self?  That is - dropped your mobile phone in a cup of beer, lost it in a parking lot or even managing to drop the thing in a chemical toilet?  (Not me - but all true stories!) 

That stretched-out-in-slow-motion scene that follows is awful.  It's the moment when the gravity of the situation washes over you and you fully comprehend what has just happened.

Everything is gone.  I don't even know my own mother's telephone number.  Shiiiiit.  This is bad.  Badbadbadbadbadbad!!!!!

A few weeks ago I was in the middle of just such a moment.

It was iPhone 1.1.3 Release Day.  I was Very Excited About This Release.  (!!!!!)  The release offered a few new tweaks and upgrades that basically allow me to act cooler than other people even more than I already do. (Which is very often/all the time.)

For instance, my iPhone will freaking triangulate me with this release!  Did you hear that?  TRIANGULATION IN MY POCKET.

(Am imagining scenario where someone says "Where are we?" and I respond, "Hang on, let me triangulate our location."  It's the closest I will ever get to being a covert agent and I will gladly take advantage of it.  Please, I am begging you, ASK ME THIS QUESTION when I next see you.)

So, I eagerly followed along with the live blogging that day when Steve Jobs had his big moment.  I watched the new video on all the new bells and whistles and by the time I got home I was practically rabid with anticipation. 

Chris plugged it in for me while I made dinner and the update downloaded.  After dinner we were greeted with an error message of the most panic-inducing sort: it basically said that while upgrading my phone, ALL DATA WAS LOST and the upgrade didn't even take.  Something about "software failure" was even mentioned.

It took me a full thirty seconds to mentally catalogue all of the wonderful tidbits of information iPhone held for me: all the phone numbers, addresses, birthdays and personal details I had painstakingly entered over the past few months.  All of the too-cute photos of Jake that I had taken in the kitchen.  ALL OF IT WAS GONE. 

F!!

Chris set about fixing it - first trying to internet sleuth his way to success.  I had issues with this course of action since the iPhone is the first Apple product he has ever owned.  My husband is a Linux and open source king.  He knows nothing about the inner workings of Apple-dom. Neither do I.  In fact, Jake probably knows more about Apple products than we do.

I encouraged him to just get on the phone - surely this is release related and they will know how to fix it.  Or at least make it WORK again - I didn't care about the release at this point.  After all, the thing was in "recovery mode" and wouldn't function at all.  JUST MAKE IT HAPPY AGAIN!

Panic was beginning to set in.  I was envisioning an iPhone free life and I didn't like what I was seeing.  No instant email, no playful Marimba ring.  No triangulation.  No internet to solve arguments instantly.  No weather updates for Maui.  No, an iPhone-free life is not the life for me.

Thankfully, after only a few minutes on hold a chatty man in Pittsburgh set about fixing precious iPhone.  He and Chris talked computer-geek and Presto!  My iPhone worked.  And it had phone numbers in it!  Hallelujah!

The only problem is that every bit of information I'd entered since the last time I plugged in it was gone.  I hadn't backed it up since early December.  I had about 80% of what I started with.

80% is better than nothing.  I guess.   I'm still pissed off about it.  Eventually the Pittsburgh man blamed the problem on my old laptop.  My vintage 2004 laptop is apparently too dated for all of the sparkles and glitter that Apple has to offer.  My archaic Dell machine makes iTunes vomit and they said that I shouldn't connect my iPhone to this computer again.

Fabulous.
 

Pig/Rat - whatever, they both are sucky animals

As my friend Holly pointed out to me I got my Chinese years all wrong.

Crap.  That's what a cursory Google search gets me.  Damn you Google!!

It's a good thing I have friends that work in labs with Chinese people who can set me straight.  Otherwise I would have been running all over the place yapping about "that Rat Year!" 

And you just know that when I go to San Francisco later this month that someone would totally call me on it.

Oh, the shame!

Oh wait, did I just mention that I'm going on a trip?  Why yes, A'Dell's Ridiculous Business Travel Schedule is back in action!  So far, just a few days into the New Year I have three business trips planned with a fourth and fifth that look imminent.

Awesome.  I'll scoop up some miles, gather some juicy TSA blog fodder and overdose on airport Starbucks while contorting myself into a comfortable position in seat 21B.

On a closing note, while I do think that rats and pigs are both equally yucky I have to give the gold star to the pig for being responsible for bacon.

Because bacon makes everything better.  And that's just nice.

All a rat ever gave me was that French rat in a cartoon that cooks.  A rat that cooks?  Oh gross.

Yes, I gave a pregnant woman Everclear for Christmas

This year at work I decided to give out a very traditional gift:  Booze.  Really strong booze. 

But since it was infused with lemon, mixed with sugar and comes from Italy - it's ok!

I gave out my handcrafted bottles of Limoncello today and they were a total hit.  I might be the most popular person on my floor, which is really no surprise as I GAVE OUT HOMEMADE ALCOHOL.

One batch made enough gifts for 10 co-workers.  And yeah - I gave a bottle to a woman who is 8-months pregnant.  In her words, "Hey, this is almost over.  I can drink this stuff in a month."  I just love her.

I made the "Straight Up" kind but the Cream Cello (as with anything that includes whipping cream) is simply DIVINE. 

Keep it in the freezer, serve in cordial glasses.  Sip, don't gulp - trust me.  You'll regret that.

Straight Up Limoncello

3 cups grain alcohol (everclear)

1/2 c lemon, orange or lime zest.  Use organic fruit if you can, since you're just using the zest.   be sure to use only the brightly colored part and not the bitter white pith.

Combine, shake, let sit for one week on counter top.  You can leave it longer if you'd like- it will just get more lemony yummy.  Try and keep it out of the sun or extreme temperatures.

At the end of the week strain the peel from the alochol and make a simple syrup:

4c sugar and 4 1/2 c water - cook in small saucepan until the sugar is dissolved.  DO NOT USE A METAL SPOON.  It will impart a metallic taste.  Use a plastic or wooden spoon.

Cool the syrup and add to the alcohol  Add less to make strong, add more to make weak.  I used a ratio of about 50/50.

Cream Cello

Syrup: 3 1/2 c whole milk and 5 c sugar.  Do not boil, warm on low until sugar dissolves.  Cool and then add 1 qt half and half or whipping cream.  Keep refrigerated as the milk will spoil if left out.  And that will spoil the booze.  And that is bad.

8 different pies makes me HAPPY

Back when I was a sassy, hyper-opinionated teenager with a title at the school newspaper ("Editor in Chief," thankyouverymuch)I once wrote an article titled "Why I hate Thanksgiving" and published it on page two for all the world to see how incredibly un-American I was. 

(I was such a badly behaved, rebellious teenager wasn't I?  No drugs, alcohol or broken curfews for me, I wrote unpopular opinions in about 200 words and then published them.  Whoa.  Why didn't my parents stop and help me?)

In 1995 I really didn't find Thanksgiving to be all that fabulous.  It usually meant that my mom had the family hyper-cleaning for days, followed by hosting a lot of people I didn't know for dinner, eating things I had yet to identify as "comfort food" (Seriously, I didn't much care for pie, green bean casserole, turkey, cranberries or sweet potatoes.  I know.)  We finished off with marathon hand-washing of expensive dishes. 

In the decade since I've grown to love Thanksgiving for all the same reasons that you do:  family, food, time off, chilly weather and lots of napping. 

A few topline things I'm thankful for this year -

The Fam

My family is awesome.  I know that your family might be awesome too (there are many awesome families in America) but my family is the best.  Just trust me on this one.  For instance, we had a keg of Shiner Bock beer on the back porch today.  A keg.  At Thanksgiving.  AND WE FLOATED IT.*

Specifically, my brother

My little brother is a never-ending fountain of hilarious.  It took me a long time to learn how to really like hanging out with him and it happened approximately when we stopped living in the same house.  Ever since then, his adventures never fail to amuse me and make my stomach ache from laughing.

Honestly, when you see a guy fake drink 3 gallons of peanut oil you KNOW he's funny.

My husband

Truly, a no-brainer.  But he's such a trooper.  He drove us down here through a lot of traffic.  He makes nice small talk with my distant relatives.  He kisses me when nobody's looking. 

And he looks pretty awesome in an apron and safety goggles, just prior to frying a turkey.  (The turkey was delicious - he's also a fabulous cook which is immeasurably attractive in a "he can always provide for me, even in the middle of nowhere" kind of way.)

And, lest we not forget, the 8 pies

Pumpkin, apple, chocolate, pecan - many varieties of each.  So beautiful and yummy.  I am thankful that I've learned how to love all the edibles Thanksgiving has to offer.

What was your favorite part of Thanksgiving?  The food?  The fam?  The football?  Do tell!

*Well, almost.

Happy Blogoversary to me!

Yes, it's true: It's been a whole year of living online and composing blog posts in my head and seeking out the crazy just so I can write about it for my own entertainment.  (Oh, and yours!  Always yours as well.)

We mustn't forget about the photos concerning crazies though! I have definitely enjoyed that, much to my husband's often, public mortification at his crazy-ass, photo taking, wife.  (PS - Neighbor Shaun is definitely gearing up for another Halloween extravagaanza.  I'll keep you posted.)

Since this seems to be a logical time of reflection I thought I'd do a bit of that.  I'm giving you updates of random topics that never made it into full fledged posts and also a few random new things.  I figure that's the best use of a Blogoversary.  More blogging for everyone.

• We put a wine fridge in the kitchen, and just as I prognosticated, we turned into booze hounds of the most expensive variety.  Suddenly we were mailing checks to our friend in Napa, begging her to put together a "selection" of her favorites.  We were trolling the wine aisles at Central Market for fun on Fridays.  We were opening $40 bottles of Cabernet on Wednesday because "it would be so good with this bag of salad and box of grocery store tortellini."  Yes, I admit it!  We are looking for excuses to open the temperature-controlled box of joy.  We obviously have a spending/drinking problem but we're happy.  Happy and drunk.  Go on - be jealous.  Go get you a wine fridge too.

• The holidays this year look to be just as complicated as last year.  Still no conclusion.  Thinking about it makes my head hurt actually.  Traveling, sharing, family time across many counties and a dog in the backseat as well.  Remind me why we can't stay home?

• Traveling is in my future!  (I know you're not surprised.)  I am going on a cruise of the most splendid variety soon.  The word "luxury" has been tossed about as well as "Caribbean" and "sunbathing."   I know.  Life is sweet.

• I just saw a commercial stating that Wal*Mart saves the average family $2,500/year.  That's only $48/week.  As a person who shops at Wal*Mart far too much I completely believe this.  I occasionally am forced to shop at the other grocery stores and they're so expensive!  Sometimes, dollars more per item expensive.  I really hate going to Wal*Mart but I love saving money.  They even have a decent wine selection with bottles routinely $3-$5 less than I can find elsewhere.

• I got an email from The Gap today that showed me this adorable number:                                                                                                                                                          
  I know, it's just so cute isn't it?!  And, at only $69.50 it's a steal. (Plus, you just know it will go on sale in 3 weeks.) I left the office to go try it on at lunch.  I haven't purchased anything at The Gap in ages so I was skeptical that they would suddenly make me happy - and through email marketing no less!  Sure enough, when I got there, they didn't have the dress.  I was so pissed.  Way to go Gap.  Send me an email, get me to open it, tell a friend about it (in an email and phone call no less) and show up in-store the same day and then don't have the product available.  Man, I hate the Gap.  I had to call my friend and tell her not to go.  She hates the Gap too now.  Ugh.  STUPID GAP!