March 4, 1999
The Little Flowery Dress

The little flowery dress fits me again.

It's been three seasons of "Friends," four jobs and five ZIP Code changes since I've been able to button it all the way -- without safety-pin *reinforcement,* that is -- but the day has finally arrived. (Of course, the dress is now three seasons of "Friends," four jobs and five ZIP Codes out of fashion ... but I don't care. A tiny victory is a victory, nonetheless.)

It feels funny to be wearing this dress again, though.  For a handful of reasons.

The last time I wore it with any regularity, for one thing, I was working at a job I loathed: handling Customer Service calls for the Circulation Department of a doomed newspaper. (Read this: I had to "explain" to cranky callers why their newspaper had landed on the roof again. The paper was out of business less than a year later.) It wasn't a happy time in my life. I see myself in this dress and I automatically think of ink stains under my fingernails ... warm strawberry/banana yogurt for lunch ... Hootie and the Blowfish, droning endlessly on the office radio ... and me, weeping in the elevator every morning. (But hey! I looked GREAT in The Dress.)

Another reason why it feels odd to be wearing the flowery dress? Because this is as good as admitting that David is right: spring has sprung, here in sorta-sunny California. How in the world can it be SPRING already?? The calendar only says March. In TicTac, they're still loading up the ark, forcryingoutloud.

And I haven't been making any attempt to lose weight the last few months. At least, not overtly. My eating habits have changed dramatically since I moved to California -- cranberry juice instead of "soda," green grapes instead of M&M's (except for the infamous PMS Weekend From Hell, a couple of weeks back). I do a fair amount of walking these days, to and from the job. AND I'm not drinking a bucket of cheap chablis five nights a week anymore. But there has been no deliberate *dieting* going on.

Truth is, I assumed that the little flowery dress had found a permanent home on the "skinny clothes" side of the closet ...

... but then I woke up this morning, saw it hanging there next to David's Hawaiian shirts, and decided "What the heck." And the rest, as they say, is history.

(Now I'm eyeballing the rest of the stuff hanging in my closet. Are culottes still "in?")



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