Today was fun-filled running around Fort Collins searching for a calendar. These little commodities are apparantly NOT USEFUL after Christmas and so have all been removed from shelves at lightning speed. Well, not ALL of us got an awesome calendar for Christmas, and not ALL of us wanted to go shopping the day after Christmas (or even the weekend after) and so WE losers are stuck with lame-o calendars on our walls. The most popular remaining day-counting-wall-art was Hannah Montana, the second was High-School Musical, and the third was a tie for equally lame subjects such as modern ballet, puppies, fill-in-your-own-date-and-no-you-don't-get-a-picture, or roller coasters. While the last doesn't sound TOO lame, believe me - it is.
In order to get said calendar, first we hit up Target, the logical spot for such a logical item. While I had to pass on tween-dream Hannah, I DID end up picking up some necessary feminine items. Although I am older and wiser I am STILL embarassed to be standing for so long surrounded by pads, tampons, and adult diapers (couldn't they stick those next to baby diapers or something? Then old people could act all non-chalent like "oh, yeah, just checking out the baby diapers...for my grandkids...."). Last time I got so flustered in the Isle of Embarassment that I just grabbed the first package my hand landed on and went home; what a mistake! I actually grabbed the product intended for "size 14 or larger." So when I ran out of supplies this time I FORCED myself to stand there and decipher every single package to get what I really wanted. Then I stocked up so as not to have to do this again ANY TIME SOON. As I go to check out I only have a few things - a can of starch and embarssing sundry feminine goods. The conveyer belt carries them down to the cashier much faster than I can load them, so my few items now take up the entire belt. The customer behind me kindly pushes my things forward so she can put her own load down (embarassing! but my hands are full trying to wrestle Patrick back into the shopping cart seat while wrestling my wallet out of my purse) AND IT TURNS OUT THAT I KNOW HER. I think this is FAR worse than a complete stranger moving my maxi pads because now I have to acknowledge our connection while trying to pretend that didn't just happen. Why, oh why didn't I load the starch on last??
Moving on. I still didn't have a calendar so we hit the mall to perambulate, apparantly with every high school student in the greater Larimer county. While the stroll did not produce a calendar (surprise) it DID produce a much greater respect for high school teachers and administration! They need to be payed more not just because they teach this future generation, but simply because they put up with them for 7 classes a day! I know I'm not that far removed from my own teenage years but I refuse to believe I was ever that ridiculous - that I dressed so poorly, did my hair so crazily, spoke so arrogantly, or followed my friends around like such a lemming! I can only hope that life grows them up and out of it. Now that I'm older and *wiser* I can arrogantly say "well, MY kids will never be like that!" (Haha, joke's on me!) At the very least I can refuse to buy my 14-year-old son pants that were made for a girl or drop my 9-year old off with his cell phone and friends on a wish and a prayer (that's what school was made for, right?).
Finally, the mall and slovenly teenage crowds in our dust, Patrick and I found the nearly-nonexistant 2009 wall calendar at Barnes & Noble - nothing fancy, but nothing ridiculous - and coughed up the required $7.50. HOURS of trouble for nothing fancy. I know what I'm asking Santa for next year!