dresses and middle names

Got word from ever-so-many people on the yesterday’s pestle debate. (Okay, two.) The votes were split! I’m sticking by my “pessel” pronunciation, though—come on. Trestle? Nestle? Wrestle? ....Bustle! How can you argue with that logic?

Actually went to the mall today and thought about buying a dress. You know, the wedding kind. Only not. No big fancy-frilly dresses for me. And white- really! Where am I ever going to wear a white dress again?

A pale green dress drew me in. It was nice, and on sale. All satiny, with little raised-up velvet leaves. It appeared to be cut from the drapes in my grandmother’s house. There were just too many things going on, though—it was wayyyy too big for me, for one thing. Another thing: it’s sleeveless. I don’t often wear sleeveless items. Not because of any insecurity, but because I don’t shave. I can just see Mom’s face when I pop in, in a gorgeous gown, heels, and S-T-R-E-E-E-C-H out my arms...ahh, no. She knows, but doesn’t wish to be reminded about her hippie daughter. (Though sometimes I think she’s jealous.)

Speaking of my mother’s approval, I told her about the tattoo today. “Eeeee-LIZ-abeth!” That’s right. My mom gave me a long, long name so that she could really lay it on when I was in trouble as a kid. “E-LIZ-abeth Chris-TINA JONES!” That’s how you know you’re in trouble, when your name takes a full six seconds. I wasn’t really in trouble today; she was just letting me know how much trouble I’d have been in 6 or 7 years ago.

So anyway, I didn’t get a dress today. I was only going to look around and see if there was anything I might convince my mom to get for me later on. Everything out there this time of year is all sporty and knit. Who wears knit in the summer? I can’t stand it. Wearing a knit dress is like wearing a big sweatshirt, even if it has no sleeves. And it’s stretchy and clingy, uuurgh.