Caveat: I am buying undies in this entry. Feel free to skip to another blog or back to Facebook if you're one of those people who are of the opinion that undies-related stories should not come out of the closet (ha. ha.) Anw, there's nothing explicit just a kind of momentous life-not-exactly-the-same-again experience for me.
I was in a dept store to buy undies. <- Imagine starting a composition in primary school with this line - Teacher: OK lah let you graduate liao! Number one, I was looking at some pretty silky type undies (despite knowing I wouldn't be buying those) when sales aunty of the quit-fooling-around-wasting-my-time variety promptly directs me to cotton briefs section which looks like the mainstay for barely-at-age-when-they're-buying-own-undies tweenie girlies. Which are the undies I usually buy anyway. But still, aunty!
Number two, once I'd decided on the plain sky blue-black-grey set over the plain cream-white-brown set, charming aunty asks "what size?". "Hmm," I say "M..?" (softly) "maybe L?" I ask more assertively, willing aunty to contradict me - "no lah M ok for you." She offers to measure me followed by the exclamation, "XL ah!" My heart fell to my feet as soon as those words reached my ears/brain. Of course I got the XLs. And proceeded directly to Cotton On for an S-sized anything.
Number 3, came home and tried on the undies with a mixed feeling of skepticism (no way I wear XL now. I've been wearing this brand forever (as in 2 years) - it's always been M or on a bad day, L. L for Love. Also Loser.) and anxiety (this is it life may never be the same again). It slips on perfectly. Like a fuckin glove. So as I make the cross over from 2012 to 2013, this is what I have to carry me - a humongous bottom, the lump sum (ha. ha.) of my inheritance.
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