Marshall's Law: No Chucks For Grown-Ups and Goat Purses

I have been a bad little Peanut, not posting on here as often as I said I would. But I have returned to tell all you little kiddies a story.

Today my mom and I went to Marshall's to return a rug. It's been a while since I've been there, but I always used to buy most of my clothes from there so I figured I might find something I liked. So after we returned the rug, we separated to do our own thing. While looking in the "The Cube", which is supposed to be the part of the store for the "hip" that replaced the perfectly good young women's section a few years ago, I noticed plain t-shirts that I spent all of high school searching for were pretty much everywhere. Of course, now I don't want plain t-shirts.

Escaping from the terror of "The Cube", I went to Joo's favorite part of the store: shoes. I bought a pair of Chucks there a few years ago, so I decided to look for a new pair. Unfortunately, the only pair that they had in women's sizes were brown, and I have a strange personal vendetta against brown shoes. The Chucks that I would actually consider wearing, black with red and light blue with white, where kid's sizes. Now I know how Joo and T-Bag feel when they put their average sized feet next to my minuscule size sixes. Yes, I actually tried some of them on. Shut up.

To drown my Chuck-less sorrow, I wandered around the rest of the store aimlessly. Then, in the purse section, I saw something that made my inner vegan cry: the goat purse. This thing literally looked and felt like a dead goat. The only reason I touched it was because I wanted to look at the label inside to see if it was real fur. I didn't need to look at the label, I know what goat fur feels like. The only thing that terrified me more than the purse itself was the thought that someone out there would actually use it. Those poor goats...

After finally leaving (all I got were some PJ's), we went to a Mediterranean restaurant called La Meena, or something along those lines. There I told my inner vegan to shut the hell up so I could om nom nom on some traditional Mediterranean chicken stir fry. While there, however, I was confronted with one of my biggest pet peeves; why do restaurants insist on giving you a crap load of food you don't even want before you can actually get the meal you ordered? I can barely eat the over sized plates they give you in the first place, but top that with all those tiny "appetizers" they force on you, I can hardly even take two bites of the dish I actually wanted! Why do they call them appetizers anyway? You don't get more hungry by eating more food! And of course, when we were done eating, the waitress glared at me for asking for a box to put my barely touched stir fry in. What do you expect after eating a salad and basket of bread you insisted on me getting? (I only ate a few bites of the salad, but seriously, who can resist the allure of warm bread?)

So, yeah, that's pretty much it for my complaining. Next time you see a goat, make sure that someone isn't planning on turning it into an ugly purse.