I went humiliation-- er, clothes-- shopping yesterday. I went to my favorite place, this little shop in a strip mall that always has very trendy, yet reasonably priced, clothes. It's the place you go to buy stuff like pleather pants or those shirts with the sleeves cut out. Yeah, that kind of shit. Not that I've ever bought pleather pants or slit sleeved shirts, but I could buy them at this place if I was so inclined.

I knew it was going to be bad when I walked in and saw that the store was filled with predominantly pink clothing. All shades of pink-- fuschia, for example. Baby pink. Powder pink (is that the same thing?). Carnation pink. Pink with pink flowers. And so on.

It was then that I realized that this was no longer my store. This store is for anorexic 16 year old children who go to raves and shit. Not my store anymore.

I'm not sure what my store is now. I'm not ready to give into The Gap or Banana Republic just yet, or god forbid, GOD FORBID, Petite Sophisticate, but I'm not sure where I do belong.

So yeah. I felt old and fat and very un-hip.

Also, while I was there, I saw a very ugly child trailing after his mother as she rifled through the sale rack. He had a very pointy head and a big, big nose. I thought to myself, "That is one UGLY kid." And then I felt bad. I thought, "I should be less free about declaring a child to be ugly. It's wrong. The kid can't help being ugly. He can't do anything about his pointy head and big nose."

And then I thought, "Fuck it. That kid is UGLY."