BulgingButtons

October 9, 2015
by BulgingButtons 4 Comments

Feeling Invisible

I’m going to a Bar Mitzvah. I’m looking forward to seeing all my relatives and celebrating with them. I’m also looking forward to the trip back east, to the land where Autumn is an actual season. In celebration of this event (and the festivities that surround it) I decided that I might get a new outfit. Maybe. I would have to see what the store had and what my shopping tolerance was like.

Now this is a great outfit!

I had some time yesterday afternoon, so I headed over to a store at the outlet mall where I’ve had good luck in the past. I triggered the little “welcome” bell as I walked in and headed to my left. This store is split down the middle, with plus size on one side and “normal” size on the other. The fitting rooms are in the middle and the checkout is in the rear.

I veered off to my side and began to browse. I picked a few items, and expected that any moment a sales associate would be along to see how I was doing and put the items in a fitting room. I’ve shopped here before. That’s how it works. I glanced around but saw nobody, no shoppers, no employees.

I continued browsing the racks, working my way to the rear of the store. As I passed by the fitting rooms I noticed they were open, so I dropped off the items in my arms and carried on. I picked up a few more things along the way as I arrived at the sale rack, right next to the checkout. As I browsed, the two sales associates continued their conversation about vacationing with their boyfriends. How nice for them.

Meanwhile, not ten feet away, I was shopping with my arms full of merchandise.

“How are you doing today?”

“Can I help you find something in particular?”

“Would you like to try those on?”‘

“Can I put those in a fitting room for you?”

Any of those phrases would have been appropriate. Even a simple “hello” would have been nice, but nope, nothing.

Fine. I still wanted to try the clothes on, so I went back to the fitting room and proceeded to try on all nine items that I found. Naturally it took a while. In the meantime another woman came in and was trying things on. In breezed the sales associate and asked her if she was doing ok, and could she get her anything.

Love this look, and those shoes, killer.

Really?

I’m in the NEXT fitting room.

You can SEE my feet.

I’ve been in your store for nearly 45 minutes!

Am I invisible? I must be.

Fortunately I didn’t love anything I tried on, because at that point I would have hated actually buying anything there.

I got dressed, left the fitting room, and walked out. And no, I was not acknowledged then either.

I left with a bad taste in my mouth. Shopping is difficult enough for me. How hard would it have been for either of the associates to just say hello? Retail is a service industry, it requires that you put on a smile and be nice, even if you’re faking it. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because I’m fat. Was the other shopper trying on items from the “normal” sized collection? Is that why she received help and I did not? What else could it be? I wasn’t rude. I don’t look homeless. What then?

I’m a little embarrassed by how much the incident hurt my feelings. I felt devalued as an individual, which is silly because I know it wasn’t about me at all. I know I’m friendly. I know I’m approachable. I know I have worth. Still, I felt invisible, and that’s a terrible way to feel.

October 8, 2015
by BulgingButtons 2 Comments

My Son is the Prince of Procrastination

I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s been raised by me, and I’m the queen.

This business of applying for colleges and scholarship programs has been slowly driving me mad. You see, there are deadlines to follow. Lots of them. Deadlines for registering for tests, deadlines for applications for financial aid, deadlines for submitting letters of reference… more deadlines than I’ve ever encountered in my life.

The nefarious thing about these deadlines is that my son seems only vaguely aware of them (or not – in some cases he’s completely clueless). I want to shake him. I want to shout at him. I want to yell, “WAKE UP!” but I know that none of these strategies will prove helpful in any way.

Instead, I’ve taken it upon myself to become an internet sleuth on a mission. I will hunt down and find all those pieces and parts, and I will hover over this giant man-child like a grumpy drill sergeant until he completes them all.

I understand that this is “enabling” behavior, but if it means “enabling” him to attend college without breaking the bank or going into massive debt for the next several decades, I’m okay with it.

I see myself as something of a coach in this process. A big, bossy coach, with an annoying whistle ready to blow in his ear at any moment.

You want to play video games? TWEET

You want to watch the baseball game? TWEET

You want to “rest?” TWEET

Sorry kid, you’re not done yet.

Yes, it’s irritating to both of us, but I’m not willing to let this one go. Sometimes, though, I wish he weren’t quite so much like me.

October 7, 2015
by BulgingButtons 6 Comments

Sucked in to My Own Little World

I hardly know how to begin.

I’ve written the first sentence and deleted it at least four times.

I’m ashamed. Embarrassed. Filled with doubts and fears.

Doubts that any of my dear readers are still around after I’ve more or less abandoned you. Afraid that I’ve damaged my own reputation by disappearing.

The flip side of that, of course, is the realization that there probably aren’t too many people (if any) who have actually noticed that the blog has gone quiet.

Oh sure, my personal Facebook friends are probably relieved that they haven’t had to scroll past my announcements over the past several days, but in terms of actually missing my ramblings, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who has been wondering what I’ve been up to. Still, I’m going to enlighten you.

Not much.

Naturally that’s not entirely true, but not much that’s particularly earth shattering.

I’ve been drawing into myself, and I don’t necessarily think that’s entirely a bad thing. I’ve been taking care of myself, eating well, and keeping up with my visits to the nutritionist. In fact I’m down almost twenty pounds over the last six weeks.

I’ve also been crazy busy at work, well until last Friday when my fall break began. There were report cards to prepare and parent-teacher conferences to hold and post-break lessons to plan, so it was a rough week. Still, it ended several days ago, so I suppose I could have gotten off Pinterest, closed the book I’m reading (Wild, by Cheryl Strayed), and started writing. Obviously I didn’t.

What I’ve done instead is immerse myself in the world of a high school student who is preparing to apply to college. It seems that our home life has become dominated by talk of SAT’s and college fairs, common apps and scholarship opportunities. Essays are being composed and websites are being scoured. We’re having lots of conversations about making choices and setting priorities. Today my son decided on the five universities he would like to apply to. I think he’s made good choices based on his interests, talents, disposition, and career goals. I’m proud of him. Any one of those five institutions will help him to achieve his goals, and I think he would be a good candidate for all of them.

Frankly, I’ve been having a little trouble with this phase of his life. His high school experience is completely different from mine. He doesn’t go to parties, he doesn’t drive, and I always know where he is. I’m grateful that he’s a much better behaved kid than I ever was, but I think it will make the inevitable separation that much more difficult. Frankly my parents were probably relieved when it was time for me to go away to college. I dread it with my son, but I know he’ll be ready. At least I hope he will. Still, it’s not going to be easy.