Wow, Is That "Working Class Hero" on Muzak?

Last time I went shopping with Becky, we were fifteen years old. She would search for hours, able to find the best deals and cutest clothes. That is, if you liked the Erasure look. I'd browse for fifteen minutes, give up, and meet her at Dunderbak's for Martinelli's Apple Cider.

Best. Drink. Ever.

Afterwards, I'd search high and low inside some consignment shop only to emerge, minutes later, with an outfit that would have gotten me kicked out of a Grateful Dead groupie convention. A trend that continued, unfortunately, even in college.

'Nuff said.

These days, Becky still can find great clothes. She just consults personal shoppers and looks through catalogs instead of sales bins. And years ago, I discovered an appreciation for clothes that actually fit.

So yesterday, Beck and I went shopping for the first time in over twenty years. Good times. All kinds of bonding over discount racks and taco salads.

• I admitted to using the same lipliner I had on my wedding day. Not the same *brand*, mind you. Same lipliner. Cause 1) my lips look fine without constant tweaking and 2) I can't throw away perfectly good lipliner. Even if it is eleven years old.


• Victoria's Secret Certified Technicians swear my bra size, once an unreasonable 32DD, is now a perkier, more manageable 32B. I didn't believe it either. Wait'll you see pictures.


• Found a black, form-fitting, Banana Republic suit, for that inevitable interview, on sale for $136.00. Impressed no one but myself and a woman with a Dick Cheney '08 pin on her over-starched lapel.


• File this under the category: Love. Cleaned up my best friend's breast milk after it flew out of her daughter's mouth onto the floor of a Mexican restaurant in front of half the town. Dick Cheney supporter almost lost her lunch. Literally.

Maybe living in Colorado isn't so bad after all.