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Welcome to my little ol' blog. I'll be upfront about it: I don't blog very often any more. If you found your way here because you read my book "Trailer Life," have a gander! But it's easier to keep up with me on Instagram or on my Facebook page. I have this long, drawn out theory on why I'm a terrible blogger, but that is a story for another day. Enjoy the ramblings of my life from the last 8 years or so.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Looking Bad in Public

These are Jessie's feet. In shoes too small. Because I can find cute brown shoe A and cute brown shoe B, but not the twins to either A or B. And although you can't see it in this picture, there are chocolate stains on her shirt, and she has no shorts on. She's already doomed to repeat my fashion faux-pas.

Today we went to Bakersfield. Again. Unplanned... my family decided to throw my grandma a little birthday party at the last minute. Ryan needed some stuff from Lowe's so he can work on the roof tomorrow anyway, so off we went. I had planned on staying home all day; the kids and I went on a hike this morning, and I had been cleaning. I was (still am!) wearing shorts that ought to be retired and an unfitted tee-shirt one size too big. My frizzy hair is in a bun, with fly-aways from the wind up here. I should have blessed the public by putting a hat on, but I didn't. Ed was dirty from rolling (literally...) in the dirt from our hike. We drive down to Bako, and made out stop at Lowe's. Jessie pees rivers and lakes when she pees, so really I'm thinking "What's the point of diapers anyway?" as I pull her out of her car seat to find it, and her, soaking wet. We walk into the store and head straight for the bathrooms where I change her five pound diaper and put her wet shorts in my purse. She is now pantless- just like the last time we were there. We get our supplies (Ed was a disaster) and start to head out when I hear this "Karrie Sorensen!" (Me: Oh NO!) and look up to see a guy I went to high school with. I haven't seen him since graduation, and he is now a county supervisor. I'm not one who wants to impress anyone, but dang, I wish we had not looked like white trash. Dirty kids, nasty hair... and I live in a trailer in the mountains. I can honestly say I wasn't mortified, or even embarrassed. It was more of a "I should look in the mirror more often", and a "Make-up doesn't hurt" and a "He probably thinks 'That poor woman can't keep up with all those kids- they are so dirty!"... all I know is this: When I run into someone I haven't seen for 14 years, I'd like to not stink like yesterday's laundry and maybe have my hair combed. (But I'm thinking that's how he recognized me- I was never stylish in high school, and sported the frizzy bun more often than not. Just being true to my roots, that's all!) After I got in the car I called Amy to tell her about it, and she has a story just the same. And Jocelyn does too... WHY IS THAT? Why are you guaranteed to run into someone from high school when you look like you've been sleeping in your clothes for a week?

3 comments:

  1. SERIOUSLY! This is why I wear a disguise whenever I leave the house... I just don't have the fashion sense to support that type of public event! ;) Haha- People actually think I'm really a chubby frumpy mom- little do they know I'm just disguising my supermodel self in case my make-up is a little off.

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  2. I hear ya, around town I don't care if I showered or not, or am wearing gross clothes--partly because people here don't know me, which is nice, and partly because maybe those who do know me don't care or know the difference! It seems I wear more of my makeup and dress nicer when I visit my family. I always run into someone I know in my hometown, and it can be a little embarrassing at times, so I feel your pain.

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  3. I have been to the jewlers three times in as many months for JC's watch. It is owned by the dad of a girl I went to school with. Three times I went looking classy, right down to cute little wedge sandles and freshly pedicured toes. She wasn't ever there. I went Saturday to go through the drive through for lunch after spending the entire morning scrubbing floors and JC calls and asks me to pick up his watch...again. I am in bleach stained yoga pants, JC's 1980's something Air Jordan t-shirt and had not yet combed my hair. Of all those times that is the time she is there! I hear ya.

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