Shopping for a change.
Well, I made it. I’m here. I live in Chicago, Illinois.
It’s amazing how quickly you can change your life.
A few weeks ago, I was living alone in my two-story townhouse in quiet neighborhood in Denver, Colorado, and now I am living in large 1600 square foot-flat above a restaurant in uber-trendy Wicker Park (yes, that same place as the movie) with a roommate I met on Craig’s list and her two dogs.
To quote David Bryne, “How did I get here?”
A U-haul, actually. A 17-foot U-haul with an 8-foot trailer that my best friend Amedee and I drove from Denver through Nebraska, Iowa and finally to the great state of Illinois (home state of Ronald Reagan, oh snap!).
Since arriving here on May 8th, I have spent my time doing an inordinate amount of interviews, getting lost downtown on my red Vespa, and trying to figure out where the hell I put my shoes.
It’s said that moving and changing jobs are two of the most stressful things one can do and I’ve done two at the same time. I think the two other major life stressers are - obviously - death and marriage, marriage being probably a lot more stressful because Lord knows when that will be over.
I’m stressed, overwhelmed, and my main focus right now is how soon I will be able to take a nap. As such, I haven’t had time to do much shopping and I think it’s starting to wear on me.
Fortunately, I just got the job thing resolved. I just landed some rockin' job at some rockin' ad agency on some rockin' avenue called “Michigan”. Which means I need to get out today to buy something appropriate for my new job. Given my recent 20lb weight gain (thanks, stress!), none of my clothes fit me and if I were to wear what does fit me, I’d shop up tomorrow, my first day, wearing my black and pink Adidas sweat pants and a black t-shirt that I got when I played Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web back in 1993. While wearing a t-shirt that promotes a play about a loving swine does seem appropriate given my current appearance, I doubt it will fly at the big-time ad agency. “Don’t you get it? Charlotte’s Web? I’m a pig? Hahahaha...yes, I see the door. Thank you.”
I am amazed that they hired me. I didn’t wear that cool of an outfit to my interview. My boss-to-be is stylish AND British, something I am sure she will look to me to be sometime soon. I can imitate her accent and plan to demonstrate this to her this tomorrow, but I’ve yet to match her ‘cross the pond sensibility.
I am entertaining a fantasy of me walking in on the first day and she looking at me and my pathetic ensemble and saying, “Bloody hell.” She’d pick up her phone and say, “Richard! Get in here! We’re taking Ashley SHOPPING...” and I would be swooped away by her handsome and gay personal assistant to some store that would be able to magically make me look hot and hide my fat at the same time. Richard and I would giggle as I tried on size 6 couture (couture runs big, why do you think they can charge so much), and swoon and sway as we tried to pick out which Manolo’s to wear with each outfit. I think I’d personally stick with black patent Mary Jane’s for most things, but I am sure I’d just have to also take the beautiful red 3-inch slingbacks. Oh snap. Richard would reassure me that not only was I beautiful, but that I looked fabulous and that I wasn’t under-qualified for my new position. He’d even look like he might be questioning his own sexuality, given how amazing and wonderful I was (couture can actually make gay men straight, why do you think they charge so much), but we’d be snapped back to reality as my pink Razr phone would play “My Humps” and it would be my English boss telling me to hurry and get back to the office, because we were needed on set. Something about an issue with Snoop and him being bored and they needed some fabulous and funny with an ass that would make a black man truly happy. That’s me.
Oh snap.
I must stop. I am putting myself into a frenzy, when I should really be jumping on my little 49cc scooter and heading down North where I can use my $200 gift card at the very Limited Express to try to find some poly-blend stretch fabric fat-hiding black thing to buy and wear this week.
I miss you guys in Denver, truly, deeply, always. I thank you for being wonderful friends and offering me the kind of love and support that lets you know you really can come home again, even if you know you probably never will.
I have changed my life. And now I am going shopping for a change.
- A
It’s amazing how quickly you can change your life.
A few weeks ago, I was living alone in my two-story townhouse in quiet neighborhood in Denver, Colorado, and now I am living in large 1600 square foot-flat above a restaurant in uber-trendy Wicker Park (yes, that same place as the movie) with a roommate I met on Craig’s list and her two dogs.
To quote David Bryne, “How did I get here?”
A U-haul, actually. A 17-foot U-haul with an 8-foot trailer that my best friend Amedee and I drove from Denver through Nebraska, Iowa and finally to the great state of Illinois (home state of Ronald Reagan, oh snap!).
Since arriving here on May 8th, I have spent my time doing an inordinate amount of interviews, getting lost downtown on my red Vespa, and trying to figure out where the hell I put my shoes.
It’s said that moving and changing jobs are two of the most stressful things one can do and I’ve done two at the same time. I think the two other major life stressers are - obviously - death and marriage, marriage being probably a lot more stressful because Lord knows when that will be over.
I’m stressed, overwhelmed, and my main focus right now is how soon I will be able to take a nap. As such, I haven’t had time to do much shopping and I think it’s starting to wear on me.
Fortunately, I just got the job thing resolved. I just landed some rockin' job at some rockin' ad agency on some rockin' avenue called “Michigan”. Which means I need to get out today to buy something appropriate for my new job. Given my recent 20lb weight gain (thanks, stress!), none of my clothes fit me and if I were to wear what does fit me, I’d shop up tomorrow, my first day, wearing my black and pink Adidas sweat pants and a black t-shirt that I got when I played Wilbur in Charlotte’s Web back in 1993. While wearing a t-shirt that promotes a play about a loving swine does seem appropriate given my current appearance, I doubt it will fly at the big-time ad agency. “Don’t you get it? Charlotte’s Web? I’m a pig? Hahahaha...yes, I see the door. Thank you.”
I am amazed that they hired me. I didn’t wear that cool of an outfit to my interview. My boss-to-be is stylish AND British, something I am sure she will look to me to be sometime soon. I can imitate her accent and plan to demonstrate this to her this tomorrow, but I’ve yet to match her ‘cross the pond sensibility.
I am entertaining a fantasy of me walking in on the first day and she looking at me and my pathetic ensemble and saying, “Bloody hell.” She’d pick up her phone and say, “Richard! Get in here! We’re taking Ashley SHOPPING...” and I would be swooped away by her handsome and gay personal assistant to some store that would be able to magically make me look hot and hide my fat at the same time. Richard and I would giggle as I tried on size 6 couture (couture runs big, why do you think they can charge so much), and swoon and sway as we tried to pick out which Manolo’s to wear with each outfit. I think I’d personally stick with black patent Mary Jane’s for most things, but I am sure I’d just have to also take the beautiful red 3-inch slingbacks. Oh snap. Richard would reassure me that not only was I beautiful, but that I looked fabulous and that I wasn’t under-qualified for my new position. He’d even look like he might be questioning his own sexuality, given how amazing and wonderful I was (couture can actually make gay men straight, why do you think they charge so much), but we’d be snapped back to reality as my pink Razr phone would play “My Humps” and it would be my English boss telling me to hurry and get back to the office, because we were needed on set. Something about an issue with Snoop and him being bored and they needed some fabulous and funny with an ass that would make a black man truly happy. That’s me.
Oh snap.
I must stop. I am putting myself into a frenzy, when I should really be jumping on my little 49cc scooter and heading down North where I can use my $200 gift card at the very Limited Express to try to find some poly-blend stretch fabric fat-hiding black thing to buy and wear this week.
I miss you guys in Denver, truly, deeply, always. I thank you for being wonderful friends and offering me the kind of love and support that lets you know you really can come home again, even if you know you probably never will.
I have changed my life. And now I am going shopping for a change.
- A
posted by Ashley at 6:53 AM
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