Shrinking feet

I've lost 100 pounds now, and my feet have definitively shrunk. I used to wear a size 9 shoe, mostly due to my foot's width--my feet are short and fat, just like the rest of me. I now wear a size 8, average width. I can still handle wearing an 8.5 shoe comfortably, but wearing a 9 makes me feel like I'm clomping around with a kayak strapped to each foot. I thought my beloved Chucks and Vans collection contained more 8.5s, but alas, twelve pairs of them turned out to be 9s. (Four aren't pictured here. I've sold three pairs to friends already and can't bear to part with one pair of my size-9 Chucks because I love them so much--at least until I find a smaller replacement.) It took me years to collect these and I love them all. It's hard to let them go.

This collection is going to force me to enter the world of selling on Ebay rather than just buying. People will pay $20-30 for a pair of Chucks in this condition on Ebay. I just think it's weird that my feet shrunk. In high school, I wore a 7.5 shoe; I wonder if my feet will get that small again? That would be weird. I have a bunch of Birkenstocks I haven't even looked at yet--oy. That may be the next bunch I have to shuffle around.

The cat in the photo is one of my three--the elder statesman, Nunzio Motorboat. He loves hiding in the closet and probably the collective smell of these shoes, and it may be my imagination, but I think he looks a little alarmed in this picture.

I've been having a ball on Ebay buying smaller shoes. I haven't limited myself to Chucks and Vans, just fun sneakers. A lot of people buy things they never wear and sell them for cheap. Last night I won a fun pair that are turquoise with Boston Terriers on them.

Cover letters and other lies

I have applied for at least twenty jobs in the last couple of weeks. My neighbor is a writer and he asked me yesterday if I was doing any writing. I told him only if cover letters count, and they should--they drain my creative juices in a big way. (They make me feel cheap and dirty, too, but that's another issue--I never have liked the whole "sell yourself" paradigm.)

The job I've wanted the most thus far got a cover letter I would be forced to deem a masterpiece. After its completion, I made my Facebook status "if I believe the cover letter I just wrote about myself, I would not only hire me, I would marry me, clone me and leave me everything in the will."

My initial unemployment claim was denied because I didn't have enough hours in the base year. (The base year was funky and took place between 2008 and 2009. I don't get how they determine the base years and I'm not going to try--I get enough headaches as it is.) I have a pending appeal using an alternate, more recent base year. I'm keeping detailed records--the required job logs, printouts of job descriptions, etc. I spent $10.89 today to send a long-distance fax at Kinko's--it seemed a little steep, but I guess they have rent to pay, too. I haven't had any more interviews since the one I went on before my job ended, but I have found a few nice things to wear to interviews, which will definitely help with my confidence when I am called for another one.

This evening is the information session about the technical writing program I plan to attend. I'm trying not to be intimidated or freaked out, but I am a little of each. What if I go and I don't want to do it? Then, of course, there is everyone's favorite old friend--The Fear of Failure. I think the worst part of not working is that I have far too much time to sit around and ruminate. I have gotten a lot of home organization and important errands done and can come up with several other projects that need doing, but there's an awful lot of time left over to think. I hate feeling so adrift in my life.

I'm not gaining weight, but my ankle has been giving me fits so I haven't walked since last week. I did do part of an exercise DVD yesterday; I have a number of them, from Richard Simmons to Hip Hop Abs and a couple I got at Target that prominently feature perky women wearing bronzer. Richard Simmons is over the top, but I can't help but like him; people who knock him should try one of his workouts (I have no opinion about his infomercials, I have never watched them or bought those products). (As an unrelated side note, his appearance on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" was one of my favorite episodes of that show.) I'm still trying to find a bathing suit I can live with and have yet another one en route from Ebay--I think I have to get in a pool because every other kind of exercise just ends up hurting too much. A long walk feels great when I'm doing it, but then I wake up in excruciating pain during the night for the next week--it just isn't worth it. Mr. Salted and I have come to the conclusion that we will find the money for me to exercise in a pool, whether I have an income or not. I hope this suit works. I do miss, even enjoy, being in the water. (I will enjoy it even more now that I've had Lasik and won't be floundering around blind!) Before and after actually I'm in the water, that's what isn't so easy.

My third wedding anniversary was yesterday. Mr. Salted and I went to our favorite getaway last weekend, or tried to--we got there and discovered the reservations were for this coming weekend and that we had messed up the dates. It is a long drive both ways, so we decided to get a cheap room at the local Econolodge and just go back again this weekend and have two getaways instead of one. He is so supportive, steady, loving, unwavering--just an incredible gift in my life, for which I am extremely thankful.

Fitting room fiesta!

Despite the multitude of clothes I have either been given or have acquired on Ebay of late, I had to go shopping at an actual bricks-and-mortar store today. (A friend of mine is fond of saying, "I'd get my hair cut online if I could"; I'm with her there.)I have a lot of clothes that almost fit but don't quite yet, or clothes that I can get on but won't feel comfortable wearing in public for a few less pounds. Like a homing pigeon, I was drawn to Fashion Bug--they have long been tried and true, with good basics at reasonable prices, and as a bonus, I even had a coupon that hadn't expired yet.

I made a beeline for the $14.99 stretch pants in navy, black and gray--comfy, forgiving, good for work. When it comes to transitional weight-loss clothing, they are Linus' blanket. I'm down to size 18/20 in those now. (Considering I used to be a 28/30 not so very long ago, I was glad to see a number in the teens anywhere nearby. I strained to remember the last time this was so; oddly enough, it was when my age was also a number in the teens.)

I wanted a pair of jeans, and ran into an interesting quandary. All jeans in plus-size stores at the moment seem to include the word "stretch". "Stretch" denim may be forgiving in its way, but it does nothing to camouflage one's lovely lady lumps. I have short legs, not much ass, and a very round stomach. Needless to say, hilarity ensued; I was eternally grateful that it was visually private hilarity. I did manage to leave with one pair of jeans--after trying on about fifteen others.

I tried on a few shirts, grabbing 22/24s, trying them on, and to my surprise, having to put them all back for 18/20s. When I was a teenager with a job at McDonald's, I remember taking a size 14 in the uniform pants, but a size 20 for the top; despite this, like every woman I have ever talked to about how she loses weight, I seem to be losing it in the chest first. Sisterhood is powerful.

That brings us to the bras. I have had to special-order them for so many years I can't remember buying them in stores anymore; at my largest I wore an H cup. My current size is 40DDD. This Fashion Bug didn't carry that size at all; for DDD, the band size began at 42. I didn't know whether to feel good about being smaller than that or annoyed that the size didn't exist for my convenience. I chose the former.

The salesperson sent me next door to Catherine's on the outside chance they stocked that bra size. Fashion Bug does juniors, misses and plus, where Catherine's is all plus--sizes 16-32 if I'm not mistaken. I've bought a fair amount of clothing at Catherine's over the years. I would say their demographic skews older and more professional, but they are owned by the same parent company.

Catherine's didn't carry that bra size either, at least not in the store. This baffled me--if you can't get DDDs in a plus-size clothing store, where can you get them? They were having a good sale, though--buy any two items in the store, get the third free. I ended up with a long, colorful skirt with a boho feel to it that reminded me of being on a cruise, a black peasant blouse with cool flower embroidery, and my favorite, a black cloche hat. I've always wanted a cloche hat, and happily, it rests as it should atop Charlie Brown-esque melon head. (I love hats, but my head is often too big for the ones I find.) The mind-blower was the size of the clothes--I'm one size from being the smallest size Catherine's carries. The blouse I bought was actually a 14/16. The moral of the story is, try everything on! I have things here at home that are 22s that are too small, but this blouse is a 14/16 and fits perfectly.

Undeterred, I came home and paid a visit to my dear friend Ebay. There I found someone selling a lot of 5 new Bali bras in my size for $75.00--a Buy It Now auction without suspense. Problem solved!

Though my weight hovers at 218, today's shopping trip lowered my frustration level considerably. I saw more difference in my body in fitting-room mirrors than I can in the ones at home or work, and smaller sizes are fitting. I also just realized I've already lost almost half the total weight I want to lose at only 3-1/2 months out from surgery, which is really satisfying, especially given the fact that I am not yet able to begin an exercise program.

Thoughts after contributing to the tax base of my community

Mr. Salted got a bonus on this week's paycheck for not calling in sick (which is sick, but the money is quite welcome), so it was almost twice as much as usual. I have kept myself busy today by spending a chunk of it. I raced to Trader Joe's this morning to get there within 15 minutes of its doors opening--but it was still absolutely SLAMMED. I love the products they carry and their philosophies there, but a handful of my fellow shoppers were tap-dancing on my last good nerve--particularly one woman in the freezer section with no concept of anyone else's personal space. I thought of asking her if it was time to take our relationship to the next level--either that, or flat-out decking her. (No wonder so many people are on anti-anxiety meds.) I was also mightily amused by the amount of huge SUVs parked near the handicapped spaces. I did a cursory visual scan of the first adjacent row of parked vehicles, but there were no Hummers--this time.

An hour or so later, I hit Target. Can I just say, I adore Target??!?!? Again, not so much the fellow shoppers, just the store's merchandise and prices. It can be an extremely dangerous store for me to be in, especially when I know we have money in the checking account. I had a grand old time meandering along and scouring the clearance racks in a leisurely fashion with a nice sugar-free, nonfat iced mocha. Mr. Salted's birthday is tomorrow, so I picked him up a few extra things to go with the presents I'd already gotten him. (One of my vices is buying myself and everyone else little things too, when I can afford to. I reveled in that vice today.) For example, they had these adorable hippie-inspired hobo bags for $8 that I fell in love with--I bought two different ones. (I love hobo bags and I love the "boho" styles--one was even paisley, and paisley just makes me plain ol' happy.) The hippie flourish was in full swing all over the store--the 40th anniversary of Woodstock is this year, so they had the DVD and some great glasses, mugs, and picture frames, as well as T-shirts. I happened to be wearing an old rainbow tie-dyed shirt today and, coming out of the store, a woman I'd never seen before in my life told me she loved it--"it's gorgeous". (I am not ashamed to say that I truly, truly enjoy what I perceive to be the damn near Olympic-caliber irony of being a 270-pound woman who gets complimented on her clothes (jewelry, shoes, purses, hats) on a regular basis, most often by total strangers. (It's pretty cool, especially when you look at a lot of the "plus-size" clothing available out there. It's the many the catalog I have received and thrown across the room, sputtering, "Fat does NOT mean blind!" I also admit I enjoy it--and sometimes can't even believe it--because I grew up wearing clothes we sometimes stole from the Salvation Army bin in the dead of night, and I never heard the end of that from my peers at the time.)

SO--Target had a lot of mondo good deals on clearance today, especially men's shirts. Mr. Salted wears a Medium, so I can *always* find cool things for him at good prices, but today they had some XXLs and some XLs on the sale racks, too--three of them were only $1.74! I made an immediate executive decision to buy myself a couple of things for post-WLS--nothing over $15, or smaller than an XL. (I think it might take an actual act of God--in whom I'm not quite certain that I believe in the first place--to get me under an XL again. Frankly, I can't even imagine being an XXL again.) So I have a couple of shirts in the next three or four sizes down that I paid very little for. I figured it was a good investment, and on some level shows actual positive thinking and good intentions on my part.

I looked longingly at all the cute summer dresses and pajamas they had for "normal" (ha) women and thought to myself, Wow...maybe next year I will be able to fit into some of those things and actually be able to buy cute stuff for affordable prices--in other words, get out from under the dreaded FAT TAX. There are a very few stores--such as Catherine's and Fashion Bug--that have reasonably-priced, basic clothing of decent quality for plus-size women up to size 5X (30/32), but they are so few and far between--and I read online not too long ago that the mother company of those two stores was in financial trouble, which is distressing. (I just found the perfect bra at Fashion Bug a couple of months ago, and every woman reading this knows how impossible that is--and how once you do find the perfect bra, it is immediately discontinued. But I digress.) I really WANT TO KNOW: what is it LIKE to be able to walk into Target and buy something presentable (and fashionable) to wear for only $25-40? Or LESS? The fact that the first place I go to look for anything for myself is the men's department is telling in and of itself. (I "outgrew" the women's section years ago.) For basics like T-shirts, men's tend to be sturdier, cheaper, and come in better colors anyway--I have no problem there--but if I really need something, like a pair of shorts, I have to hope the men's section has something in my waist size that doesn't look overly masculine. It's rather depressing to contemplate the more I think about it. No wonder I became the Queen of Mail Order/Online among my acquaintances before I was even out of my teens. And I have some really nice clothes, but let me tell you, they were NOT cheap. A decent bathing suit for me in my current size is at least $120. A bra can be as much as $70. (Who has that kind of money? No wonder my VISA is maxed out.) Ironically, Ebay has been a godsend, particularly for professional or designer clothes, and many of the listings included: "I had gastric bypass surgery! My loss is your gain!"