six hours

Sunsets are becoming something more profound lately, filling the sky with a certain delicateness affluent in romantic novels; soft expanses of lavenders and pinks and oranges blazing from a bright ball of gold. It is as if the world is saying, 'Thank you for reading patiently through the storm. Here's a little something for you.'

Actual shopping today was almost as worse as I had predicted. First, it was Saturday, it was one o'clock in the afternoon, and everyone, ever, was flocking to the Lancaster outlets for some 'quality' discounts, none of which included anything under $5 (which is the only shopping I prefer). Our first stop was Nike, where I watched a beautiful strawberry haired toddler with the biggest blues gawping wide with some exotic noises. She smiled when she noticed I began to join in.

Then we made our way to American Eagle. Admittedly, I like they're clothing, as long as the giant eagle or the wording AMERICAN EAGLE is not amply displayed across the garment. But, it really is hard to get over the fact that that store truly is the fifth circle of hell. First, why in god's name do they think it a good idea to blare, legitimately blast high octane dance music (including hits from Hot Chip and MIA) into a room brimming with high pitched voices and very tanned, very blond parents searching for they're fiftieth pair of acid-torn, overpriced jeans. It's an understatement for me to describe how incredibly nervous I suddenly became while in the store. I began shaking. And sweating. And, was totally unable to try on the six million pairs of jeans I decided would be a good idea to lug into the dressing room.

It was madness. I quickly picked the pair, gave them to my mother (who was paying for them, because, you know, she's awesome) and left the store to stand in the 98% humidity while trying to stop myself from shaking.

Eventually I learned the jeans I chose were $10.

Huzzahs abound for consumerism!