Day 19 - The Last Day!

Today was shaping up to be a blogless day...until I went to the grocery store. (On a side note: yes, I already went to the store this week, but I forgot to add the ingredients for the hopefully delicious "Vegetable Pie" which I am preparing for dinner, to my list. And to further the side note: I wrote up a new list for the pie, and left it on the table while I traveled to the store. One last side note: I actually managed to remember all the ingredients!)

As I sauntered up to the shopping carts, I noticed a little holder that was added to the left side of each cart. What could this be for? Flowers? I looked questioningly at the lady next to me, but she seemed totally unaware of the change. I decide, like her, to ignore it and go about my business. But, as soon as I entered the store, the question was answered. They have scanners available before you begin shopping! How cool! You simply scan your "Giant" shoppers card, and one of the scanners along the wall lights up. You remove your scanner, and take some shopping bags (or your own re-usable bags) to begin shopping. As you shop, you scan each item, and put it right into your shopping bag. It tells you the price, and the total of your order, which is useful for those on a budget, and allows you to remove the item if you like. It also dings occasionally and tells you about various sales happening all over the store, which is useful to...well, not to me.

When you get to the checkout line, you can do a standard "self-checkout", only all you do is pay. No more scanning required!

One question though - what is to stop you from just putting items in your bag without scanning? I was tempted to try it, for the sake of science, but I chickened out. I would not want to be banned from such a cool shopping experience after day one.

Day 3 - She's Got The Look

Today, I am very glad that I saved my $80 Sears gift card from Adam's parents. In preparation for my interview tomorrow, I decided to swing by the department store to purchase some "proper business attire." The process took about three hours.

I talked to my sister when I returned, and told her of my accomplishment. Immediately, she said, "Did it take three hours?" and proceeded to list all of the pitfalls I encountered during my visit. At least I am not the only one.

So, Ladies, consider this blog a time saver. There is no need for us all to go through this experience only to learn lessons that are already known. I figure the process can be cut to about an hour by utilizing the following helpful hints...

Dressing Room Visit 1: Pants are no good. Proper suit pants that match a jacket are for some reason unbelievably long. You would need a tailor or some really good duct tape to hem them. Or, if you're a do-it-yourselfer, you might attempt sewing a hem. However, even if the idea of threading a needle doesn't phase you, the suit pants tend to sit unflatteringly high on the hips. They cost more than the skirt, and you will never never wear them again.

Dressing Room Visit 2: Business attire is just plain ugly. Ladies, you are not dressing for a cocktail party or a friend's wedding. You must relinquish all fantasies of finding a "cool" thing to wear to an interview. The hot-looking suits worn by female lawyers on TV are not sold at Sears.

Dressing Room Visit 3: Forget the skirt-shirt combo. If possible, find a dress with jacket combo. The dress, of course, is hideous, but so was the skirt. The difference is that the dress doesn't get all bunched up under the jacket.

Dressing Room Visits 4, 5, and 6: If you do not find a dress-jacket combo, you will need the skirt-shirt-jacket combo. Skirt and jacket are fairly easy if you remember visit #2's lesson about ugliness. Shirt? Not so easy. So I developed several shirt rules:
One, light colors such as white or tan work best with black (which was the only color available at Sears). Wacky colors such as turquoise, purple, or yellow must be avoided.
Two, quarter length sleeves should be avoided. Short or long are acceptable, while quarter length tend to bunch at the elbow, making it difficult to bend the arms. Option is to remain straight armed, which may make shaking hands a tad awkward.
Three, buttons up to the collar are needed. You do not actually have to button all buttons, but there were a ton of shirts which did not even include them above a certain level. Thank you fashion designers, but I think I can figure out which buttons to use on my own.

In the end, neither my sister nor I purchased a button down shirt. I found a regular shirt with a square neck. After all those button downs, the plain old shirt felt like heaven, and I ended up picking up a second one in red.

Then there are the shoes. I walked down the aisle and tried on shoes one by one. I have suspected for several years that my left foot is significantly larger than my right, but my normal shoe choices of hiking shoes or loafers have not revealed this definitively. Today, I confirmed my suspicions. There is very nearly a half size difference. Despite this, the shoe choice was the easiest one to make - I found only two pair that fit comfortably in my (left foot) size. One of the two had a cutsie strap that was less desirable, and so I happily tucked the other pair under my arm.

During my shopping spree, I did not consider cost. But after picking a decent looking dress-jacket combo and a pair of shoes, my total cost was $45. Sweet. This is when I went for the kill, and found a black skirt for $10, then picked up the two aforementioned shirts. Total was $84, so I handed the woman a fiver and popped down the street to a cheapo hair place for a trim.

At the very least, I will look good tomorrow.

2 Out of 3 Ain't Bad

Flashback to three years ago:

My sister and I planned one day to go Christmas shopping. All. Day. "It will be FUN!", we said. "We can have lunch in the food court," we thought. "Before we start, we'll get coffee and bagels at Dunkin Donuts (and a few bags of coffee as gifts)," we multi-tasked. Did I mention that we planned to go all day?
Flash forward a few hours: Our backs breaking, feet aching, hungry due to inefficient price to portion ratios at food court, and we're just a tad exhausted and irritable. I am at Target, purchasing a white hoodie for our other sister when I realize there is a good sized hole near the neckline. "We better go back," said exhausted sister #1 as tears began to well up in her eyes. It was, of course, the last white hoodie on the rack. We had already been in line for half an hour. "Nah," I said, "She can exchange it at her Target." (I should mention, at this point, that after a nice sleep, I did go to another Target the next day where I exchanged the shirt myself.)

This was the last time I went Christmas shopping. Catalogs, how I love thee. Amazon.com, you are my savior. Online, baby! It's where its at. I hopped on that train and never looked back.

Unfortunately, I discovered this weekend that just a click of a button can cost you. A friend sent a catalog for one of those Tupperware-like businesses a few months ago. This one specializes in dip mixes, spices, cake and bread mixes, and that sort of thing. Of course, I searched the catalog immediately, and promptly resolved to place an order - tomorrow. After about 60 tomorrows, we come to Saturday, when I sat down, credit card in hand, and made three orders:
1. I sent a friend a gift package, but registered my consultant as a random person instead of the girl who sent the catalog. I know these people work for commission. I do not know that my order has successfully been placed.
2. I sent my friend a second gift package, this time registered to the correct consultant.
3. I sent my friend a third package that is supposed to come to my address.

The moral of the story? It is good to be my friend!