duck-shaped pain

16 January 2001
Breasts of Pure Luxury

So, today is my birthday. I am now 27. I guess I should reflect on being a year older and remark on the passing of time and the changes that have come because of it. Iím not very good at that, so Iíll just say that the past year has brought on several things that I would have thought improbable at this time in 2000: I now have a foot-and-a-half stainless steel rod more or less permanently implanted in my lower right leg, and I also now own a $58 bra.

The last just occurred the other day. And there is no way I actually spent $58 for it, although after wearing it for a day, I can see why someone with a lot of spare income might. Thereís this store in town that gets in shipments of overstocked and returned clothes and other items from nice department stores around the country, and sells the items for super cheap. Itís pretty popular, from what I can tell, even though I visited it for the first time on Saturday. The woman who runs it says that itís a big hit with a lot of new residents, who move here swayed by the scenery and the weather and the fabulously low humidity. Then they settle in and find that something is amiss in their new locale: it does not provide access to their Favorite Name Brands.[1] She says they all just flock to this store when they get a new shipment, and start fighting over $200 pairs of pants (marked down, of course). So I went in. And bought jeans and a $58 bra. Which I only paid $4 for, which is cheap even for the flimsy, scratchy cheap bras.

But itís hardly flimsy and cheap. It is solid, built like a smooth, supple cotton tank. I wore it around yesterday and I was in mammary heaven Ė I didnít even notice it was on. Which, for those of you who have never worn one, is the ultimate goal of bras Ė to not notice that theyíre there. The less you think about them when theyíre on, the better off you are.

When I bought it, the woman looked at the size and told me that she often got in bras in that size. So, you know, Iíll be back.


Made mushroom risotto for dinner the other night. I had to Ė we were having fish for the umpteenth time and I had to make something different to go with it, just to say I did. It turned out really good and creamy. I followed the recipe exactly (except I didnít make the special mushroom broth it called for, since I did not feel like buying lots of expensive dried mushrooms Ė so I made a much cheaper semi-mushroom broth. Turned out good anyway), or at least I tried. It called for 5 1/2 to 6 1/2 cups of broth (7 1/2 in the high-altitude directions [2] and mine only took 4 1/2 . Yet, it tasted like it should. I guess I happened on some special high-achiever rice or something like that.


Went over to see the new digs at work today. Since weíre moving into a house and not a typical office space, the layout of the place is sort of interesting. I mean, we all get our own bedroom. Mine (also the file room) has mirrored closet doors and bright red disco carpet. The people who lived in the house before my employer bought it were dog groomers, who gave their animal friends complete run of the place. So, from what Iíve heard, cleaning it up was a very exciting task. I got out of it because of my leg. Bless you, leg.


[1] Uh, whatever. Speaking as someone whoís worn clothes I found in an alley, once. Then again, I routinely lament the lack of access to many of my desired records here, so to each his own, I guess. But clothes are clothes, really.

[2] High-altitude directions, for the most part, are complete bunk. According to the recipe I followed, my rice should have taken an extra 15 minutes to cook at 5,000 than it would at sea level. I live at 4,800 feet (close enough) and the risotto was done in the time given for sea level. Some high-altitude directions are useful Ė ones regarding baking tend to be more accurate then most Ė but a lot are merely mystifying. Back years ago when I was on a strict 3-boxes-for-2-dollars Pasta Roni diet, I would amuse myself during preparation by reading the high-altitude directions on the box, which stated that my noodles with cheese would take 15-20 minutes longer to cook than usual. For a recipe which takes 7 minutes, tops, to cook. Ha ha ha ha.

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