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Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Therapy

Stress is a daily part of all of our lives. And sometimes you just want to scream, or beat the living $h!t out of some clown who won't serve you due to some bureaucratic loophole in their tiny consciousness. Or when you try on what seems like 50 tops and all of them seem to have been made for people who don't give a crap what they look like. Tassels, frilly bits, bloody tent shaped bits that don't do anybody any favours. Or when Blogger corrects favours in the spell check because the US spelling leaves out every second letter. What's next? We're going to spell it favrs? Or Frs? Or F?
Or clothing shops that insist on playing techno music at full volume with the subwoofer thumping through your eardrums while you
A. Try something on
B. Try to make a decision about the clothes
C. Try to hear yourself think!!

Then you hear the obligatory glass-shattering tones of the shop assistant "howy'goingintherealright?" The thing about Australians is that when they get lazy or think it doesn't matter, they string an entire sentence together into one word. Cricketers do it all the time.
"yeahwellitsbeenatoughtestbutIthinktheboysgaveitagoandwe'lltrytadobetternexttime"

In fact, a lot of Australians could be race callers without any training at all.

I really can't stand change rooms. One time I had a shop assistant try to COME IN to the change rooms while I was trying stuff on. I draw the line at yelling through the saloon doors. I don't know what she was thinking.

It's amusing that I have a shopping blog but I can't stand shopping for clothes. That's why I buy so much stuff online. You completely do away with the change room. It has its pitfalls of course, eg finding out you bought UK or US sizes by mistake, but it generally works for me. And I don't end up pale, exhausted and with a thousand-yard stare at the end of it.

I think I feel better now. I'm off to get a chamomile.

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