I need a new pair of shorts, and I have a plan. No, I'm not going to beat someone up, steal their pants and run like a short burst of choppy wind. Here's the scoop, PK's watching the boys for me, so I can go to a Dr's appt, at a new Dr's office, a place that gave me an appointment!
Anyway, my plan is to go to one of the consignment shops up by campus. No kids, plenty of time to try stuff on. Also, I figure those college girls may be in need of cash for summer beer, and no longer fit into their last year's shorts.
When I was in high school, I heard about the dreaded Freshman 10. Where a girl goes to college and gains 10 pounds, not something creepy. By the time I graduated high school, it was redubbed the Freshman 15. I dropped out of college to avoid that one. When I worked at Eddie Bauer over the holidays I heard tell of a horrible new college affliction, the Freshman 30!
I mean, I'm not that freaking old. Freshman 30? How much beer are you girls drinking?
See, I may not be crazy, at least on the consignment shop near campus shorts theory.
Gryffindor Sock update:
I am fine with the whole knitting with the stolen double point needles, but knitting one sock at a time seems so sad. It's one lonely little sock, waiting for it's mate, a mate which may or may not ever be constructed. At least when I did 2 on 2 circs, the pair of socks seemed to be a lot happier. Even if they never got finished, they at least had each other. Oh, I need to get out more.