Ellen came over today to fit me for my postpartum dresses.
And remember? I told you I'd blog about it?
The best news is that Ellen's measuring of my upper body was off. When she measured me last week I had different numbers. Today I was SMALLER. Yes, SMALLER. And she kept saying, "Oh wow. You are SMALLER than I thought." At that point I wanted to hug her, but I had about forty-nine pins in me and didn't want to poke either of us.
The muslin is just a mock-up, a shadow--if you will--of what my real dresses will look like. I saw the budding of ever-so-slight puff sleeves and the flattering cut of an empire waist (Ellen pronounces it like French Couture, ahmpeer waist). I also stood really still and tried not to breathe on her as she pinned me straight. I had El Azteca nachos not five seconds before her arrival, so I was sensitive to our proximity.
Three things about Ellen:
1. In reference to yesterday's post she said, "Leaving your college town makes you feel like an adult." Chup-sitting at the kitchen table with a chicken enchilada--really like that point. Maybe that was what he was feeling all along? He needed a graduation of sorts from Provo to feel like he had progressed?
2. Ellen also finds it silly when people assume Provo is so conservative. "It is a college town, where scholars live." And then she added, "I'd say most of my professors at BYU were/are Liberal. None of them are gun-toting Right-wing Republicans." (Ellen hails from Carlsbad CA.)
3. Ellen likes the pickled carrots from El Azteca. I'd say she's crazy, except then the point she made earlier about me being SMALLER would be moot. Cause she'd be crazy. But she's not crazy, she just likes pickled carrots. AND I AM STILL SMALLER!!!
Until next time . . .