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Overpriced Sweatpants and Garden Gnomes

I see you all care that I have been gone for so long. Whatever. I had things and stuff to do. Specifically, I went to Scottsdale and back then Omaha and back. Crazy fun � I know you are all just jealous.

While in Scottsdale, I had the opportunity to sneak away for a few minutes to browse around the overpriced shopping center across the way from our hotel. On my brisk walk through well-manicured older women and the stores they frequent, I happened upon a store that sells mostly overpriced sweatpants. Oh dear god how I covet their sweatpants.

The price tag of the first item I drooled on read $164 for a pair of black cargo-esq pants with cute little ties around the ankles. I had to read the tag two or three times, stare at the item and then wonder if the pants had been stitched together with gold or some rare thread made from fibers found only in the underbelly of Moroccan muskrats. I moved on to the next rack and fondled a luxuriously soft heather gray long sleeved shirt. Its price tag read $124. I inspected it closely to see if I�d missed a diamond studded neckline or something � nope. Just a plain grey shirt made out of cotton. Curious, I moved to the next rack where I picked up a lovely sweater with a pink rose made of super soft cashmere attached to the lapel. Being that it was made of cashmere, it was a little less difficult to swallow the $220 price tag. Then, I happened upon what appeared to be a slightly more stylish version of a plain white long underwear shirt. $88. I put the shirt down and was about to walk out the door, when a salesperson appeared and informed me that the racks I�d just perused were all 70% off the price on the tags. It was then that I caved. Super soft lounging clothes at a super discount. I NEED IT! I bought the cargo-esq pants, the overpriced long underwear shirt and the luxuriously soft grey shirt that I had fondled. Mind you, even at their heavily discounted prices, I knew that these clothes were still overpriced, but I NEEDED THEM. Thanks to that store, I now have the ability to look like the SAHM�s Jane always runs into at the grocery store or on the playground.

That was on Thursday. Friday was a travel day that ended with beers at my favorite Mexican food restaurant. Yummy. Saturday was spent in the yard cleaning up the mess from last fall and filling my curb with household debris for the bulky item pickup. Here�s something that made me blush a bit. For the past four years, I�ve had a round bar-height table and four stools sitting on my back deck. The set was painted green with a large bright red flower painted on the top of each piece. It was well worn due to weather and the stools had started to fall apart. In the hopes that we will soon sell Ryan�s house and that we will transport his deck furniture to our deck, I took the whole set to the curb along with a broken television.

Within minutes, trucks were pausing by my trash heap and inspecting the goods I�d sent to the curb. The TV got a couple of good stares, and one man selected a bundle of wood from the destruction of the third floor to add to his growing stash of curbside finds. About an hour later, I looked at the curb and saw that someone was going to give the TV a chance. Paco and my father had confirmed the television�s brokenness more than a month ago, so I pity the fool who decided to take it off the curb. Five hours and fifteen rusty pickups later, someone hauled off the stools, but left the table. That was Saturday. By Monday morning, almost all of the scrap wood had been taken, someone found a use for the sheetrock we�d discarded, and someone else had taken the broken cat statue from the pile, but no one ever bothered to take that damn table. People got out, poked at it, and then left it behind. How embarrassing is it that that same very table adorned my back deck for FOUR YEARS! Basically, the dumpster divers of the world have told me that I have no taste. Humiliating.

And yes, I did say �broken cat statue.� Much to Ryan�s pleasure, one of my two pieces of yard art fell victim to the wet winter and the clay cat statue that hid behind a bush next to my front porch had cracked and fallen apart. In its place now sits my little garden gnome. Ryan may have won the battle, but the war rages on. Cheesy yard art LIVES!

1:40 p.m. - March 01, 2005

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