It's not really big news, but yay!

I feel like I out to apologize for this, but since it's really just my weblog and not "awesome amber-story time fun for all" weblog, I'm writing down how excited I am today. Why's that? Well. . .

Mom and I went to the mall today, so that I could get skeletor some new bedding and a new heat lamp and some meal worms, and also because I had a hankerin' for shopping. I decided it would be a good day to buy an outfit for a reception Dave's family is throwing for his younger sister Julie. So we go to JCPenney's, and I find a beautiful teal patterned skirt that is just darn lovely and looks lovely on me. Only problem is, every top I try on looks horrid. They all are baggy and billowy near my chest, and skintight snug around my stomach. Now, I'm no waif, but I'm also not overweight. My sister Liz and I can wear the same clothes right now, and I know she looks lovely. So what's the deal? Why can't I find clothes that fit?

Because I was shopping in the wrong freaking section of the store. According to mom, I'm a "borderline petite" . . .which sounds prrrreeety dangerous, right?

We went upstairs to the petite section, and grabbed the same tops that went with my lovely skirt. I put one on, and it was like a miracle. The shirt fit around my sleeves--no bra-flashing gapes. And the shirt flared out right where it should, so instead of looking like I had a small innertube wrapped around my hips, I looked like I had a cute little waist and hips. I had to dance around with glee. Suddenly every shirt I tried on looked fabulous and cute. Mom was not extreemely suprised, because she'd experienced the same things with her mother, Grandma Garvin. Turns out I come from a long line of petites, including my Aunt Sylvia, Aunt Donna, and Cousin Kristen (all my immediate female relatives on mom's side except mom). We all have short torsos, which means that regular shirts are too long and leave too much space at the sleeves. Like them, I have plenty of legs, but not much length above the waist.

Apparently I've gotten away with "normal" clothes for so long because I've worn juniors sizes, and they are all naturally smaller in dimension. According to mom, I've "filled out" . . . which is a kind word for gained weight. If these times were the 50's perhaps I'd be a goddess, but that's another topic. I used to be 120 some pounds for goodness sake, and now I'm like, 140. That's also another topic. What I'm mean to say is that I'm so excited, because it's so frustrating to have all the clothes you try on not fit quite right, no matter what size you choose. Suddenly, I feel like I belong somewhere, and that somewhere is the cute land of petites, even if the cutoff height is 5'4" and I'm 5'6". They can just deal with it.