yoga + cookies = nirvana.

i came home to find one of these cookies underneath my tree. from my landlord no less! i got the tree pose one. tres adorable, n'est-ce pas?

bad acting + flannel

i was doing a quick internet search for some cute holiday jammies appropriate to wear in front of The Cute's family (um, NO). i never found any jammies for myself, but i did find this video. some of you have seen this on my facebook page already, but i think everyone should see this video. consider it my public service for the holiday season.

how ya like them apples?

one saturday afternoon a few weeks ago, i went bra-shopping at my favorite little lingerie shop. at any given time in my life, i really only have two bras in the daily rotation. like every girl, i have my fair share of impulse bra purchases - lace ones, satin ones, beribboned ones, bejeweled ones, but seriously, who other than Beyonce wears those contraptions on a regular basis?

i was in dire need of a couple new standbys. after several months of daily wear, the elastic in my old reliables seemed to have stretched out, leaving me with shoulder straps that slipped with every move i made, underboob oozing out from beneath the underwire, and a less-than-attractive puckered cup. i was annoyed. i don't want to know i'm wearing i bra. i don't want to have to work to keep a bra on. i just want it to sit there and do it's job. like a good butler. a boob butler.

your breasts, milady.

i ask the salewomen (there are the sweetest, most helpful saleswomen at this little shop!) to get me a few bras to try on in my size.

"36 C."

she brings a bevy of bras in 36 C. i try them on.

strange. underboob still making an appearance, strap still slipping, cup still puckering.

"i think you are a 34 C."

"oh. okay."

she leaves to go rifle through her 34 C drawer right outside the dressing room.

"have you lost weight?"

"maybe a little."

"are you gonna lose more weight?"

"i hope not."

pause.

"have you been sick?"

"um, nope!"

"oh. (pause) well, at least your cup-size hasn't gone down!"

she seemed to be confused by my response to her first question:

"are you gonna lose more weight?"

"i hope not."

and then i found her follow-up question curious:

"have you been sick?"

sick? as if the only reason i might not want to lose more weight is because i'd been sick, and to lose more weight would mean i'd continue to be sick or get sick again?

who knows what her thought process was. i wasn't offended. there was no "i can't believe you think i need to lose more weight" kinda thing. i just found it fascinating... and a little sad... and a little happy for me.

"i hope not."

i.e.

i hope not to lose more weight.

to not want to lose more weight. does that make me sick? nooooo. that makes me well.

imagine! i've reached a point in my life where i have no desire to lose weight. i think i could even (and probably will) gain a little, some, maybe a lot of weight at some point in the next 50 years, and live a damn fine, miraculous life. really, truly those two things (weight, life) are not dependent upon one another unless i make them so. it's up to me.

i'm proud of where i am, proud of where i was that day in the lingerie shop. a few years ago, a slight comment like that would have, no joke, led to tears.

if i could do it over?

"i hope not. i love my body the way that it is."

that really woulda thrown her for a loop.