Oct. 25th, 2004

What the

Oct. 25th, 2004 12:16 pm
I always always wear Dickies, 40x30. Always. I like not having to try on pants when I need new ones -- I just order online in the same size I wore before. Women's clothing departments all suck anyway. What the hell is a size 18? Who knows? Depending on the cut, a shirt in size 18 could be SMALLER THAN a size 14 shirt. They make. No. Sense. Which is why I've taken to wearing as little specifically-female clothing as possible.

Right now I'm out of clean Dickies, and I reeeallly don't want to wear sweatpants to school (lesson learned early on -- fat girl's ass + sweatpants = eyuuuuugh), so I horked a pair of mecha's pants which he never wears as he doesn't believe in not wearing shorts.

And despite being 40s, THEY ARE TOO BIG.

Dammit, men's sizes were the ones that were supposed to make SENSE.

And now, skull.
I just took a test. It was okay, I guess. Some supereasy questions, some that I had no clue 'cause I wasn't there that day. And two that asked what a midwife was. The first time around the answers were A) a woman between husbands, B) a woman married to a midshipman, and C) boy this is a dumb question. The second time was a variation on the first. Fake questions are more amusing when they're not repeated... unless they're repeated with style. The words "with style" would be linky except I can't for the life of me find the entry I want to link to. Rarr.

I had a nice little talk with Colin after the test. Mainly about the test, but also about my being still a bit sick and having a stabmark on my arm from my visit to the health center last week. Colin's nice. I will manage to make proper friends with him yet. Or... y'know, not. But it'd be nice if I did.

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