I think I am making some real progress moving forward with my life. I've come to this conclusion based on a major event I took part in this weekend, one that made me realize that maybe, just maybe I am on my way healing. To recapturing some of my old spark. To feeling almost "normal" again. What was this major event that has brought me this new sense of hope and peace in my soul?
Nordstrom's Anniversary Sale, of course.
I am not kidding here. At least not completely. Before you roll your eyes and laugh, let me try to explain.
After you died, I pretty much stopped caring about my appearance whatsoever. I mean, I have never been too "into" my looks (like I've never been one to really wear any makeup, mainly because whenever I've tried, I just look like a scary raccoon, even after watching multiple "how to create smoky eyes" tutorials on Youtube), but after your death, it got bad. Really bad. I would maybe shower every couple of days. I wore the same pair of yoga pants everyday for like four weeks straight, even out in public, to the point where the butt and knees were all stretched out and baggy and there were visible chip grease stains on the thighs.
Even after those first few weeks, once I had regained the strength to trade my yoga pants for jeans (on special occasions, anyway), I still had no desire whatsoever to attempt to look cute or put together. Friends would ask me to go shopping and I would refuse. The thought of shopping for new clothes just seemed so...unappealing. So pointless. I was happy to live the rest of my life in my wife beater tank tops and pink sports bra, thank you very much.
I don't know if it's that Nordstrom's annual Anniversary Sale is just that good, or if it holds a special place in my heart because I worked there for so long (in college), or what, but I decided I wanted to go last weekend. I wasn't thinking I'd really find anything I wanted or needed, but I figured it be fun to look around and see all the good deals. So on Saturday afternoon, after a morning of laying out in the sun, Marissa and I drove to the Mall of America, found a pretty decent parking spot (despite all the crazy traffic), and walked in those doors.
-Cue the sound of angels singing here-
It was amazing. All of a sudden, racks of cardigans and tunics and fall jackets and button-down flannels, all at 30-40% off, called my name. "Kristin," they beckoned, "take us home with you." My desire to shop came back, and it came back with a vengeance.
I found a lovely long cardigan sweater. A tan and grey plaid shirt that fits me like a glove. The most comfortable long-sleeve dress/shirt thing (I still haven't figured out which on it's supposed to be). A pair of jeans that make my butt look amazing, if I do say so myself.
And then, I saw them, the most beautiful pair of boots I have ever seen in my life. I knew when one of the sales people up in the clothing department asked us, "are you going to go down and check out shoes before you leave?" it was a bad idea. I knew I would find something I couldn't live without. And I did.
The moment Marissa and I laid eyes on them, we knew they were the ones. It was love at first sight, for both of us. The soft, slightly distressed brown leather, the adorable buckles, the perfect sized heal. Plus, they were Borns, so I knew they would be incredibly comfortable. The salesman, a younger guy, probably working his way through college just like I did, noticed us checking them out and said, "Do you guys want to try them on?" "I don't know..." Marissa and I said at the same time, "we probably shouldn't..." "We're almost sold out in the brown, but I can check for you just in case if you want," he said. "Well, hypothetically, if we were to try them on, I would be an eight and a half," Marissa said. The salesguy looked at me, "hypothetically, I'd be an eight," I said. "I doubt if we have those sizes, but I'll check," he said.
While he was in the back checking, Marissa and I decided that if he had our sizes, it would be fate. It would be meant to be. Those boots and us, we would be soul mates.
He came out with our sizes.
After some major rationalizing, including returning clothing items I had purchased earlier that day, the boots were mine. Here they are, in all their glory:
Later that night, before going out to dinner with my girlfriends, I put them on with a pair of skinny jeans and one of my new tops, did a cute little braid in my hair, even put on mascara, and felt pretty darn cute, for the first time in a long time. It felt wonderful. I felt almost like a normal human being again.
My Anniversary Sale experience was not so good for my bank account, but boy was it good for my soul.
I love you, Baby. The sadness is getting less and less intense, but my love for you stays the same.
Your (hot) mama :)
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