California vs. Idaho

The Movie

You know those movies scenes where everyone is rushing around the character but the character is in slow motion. I think I experienced that tonight, or I had a brief mini melt down in the middle of my favorite store, Target.

I had an moment tonight, a tragic and evil realization that I am completely and totally un-hip.

The Couple

I watched this couple walking in front of me with their tan non-formal styles and hair that dared you to copy with pizazz and sun glasses pushed freely on top of their locks. The woman was wearing leather flops underneath tan legs wrapped in denim shorts that looked to be made just for her. A green tank with just enough style that you know she did not frequent Target for her duds and the most gorgeous brown hair, THE MOST GORGEOUS BROWN HAIR, I think I have ever seen. The man was sporting similar leather flops (but man style) cargo shorts and a t-shirt with a sun kissed tan wrapped up with a perfect smile and teeth that actually "pinged".

The Moment

I had that slow motion moment, I looked down at myself and my mom jeans, stained white t-shirt and the 20lbs acquired in the past year and realized I literally look like a Idaho farmers wife and not a California Gurl (as Katy Perry would say). I mean when I wave at you from across the room my triceps wave 5 times more just to make sure you saw the first wave and my hair is the same color as corn. Perhaps Idaho potatoes and I have a future. As I was trying to free my self from a possible major melt down in the big red store, the couple stopped in an aisle and the man turned my way and gave me the once over. Now, I kid you not, the sheer look of "dismissal and pity" on his face when he saw me was enough for anyone to dial the nearest lippo suction expert and mortgage their home to pay Dr. Slash to do his chop, chop, chop work. I stood there, in the middle of Target with everyone rushing around me, I was FROZEN.

The OMG Moment

"WHAT IN THE HELL HAS HAPPEN TO ME" I've turned into Mr. Idaho Potatoes wife. I am Mrs. Idaho Potato with mom jeans and orthopedic shoes. I AM ONLY 35.

Leggo my Potato Plan

I don't think I can endure another "pity ping look" from a California pretty boy with a goddess on his side so I have a plan. At least I plan on making a plan of action. Perhaps a farm in Idaho? Perhaps agoraphobia? Perhaps the realization that I am just not hip nor fit into skinny denim shorts made for tan legs and a leather flop style. I think the later is the safest conclusion so no one gets hurt. Mr. Idaho Potato, I'm your gal.

Tonight my humor is infused with jealousy and dismay, in all honesty I stood inside my favorite cheap American French store fully aware of self while everyone around me moved 5 times faster, more efficiently and with grace. I am thankful for my health and for my family's health and that is enough for me tonight. Long live the Idaho Potatoes!