Black Friday, the 2013 Edition

But first! Winnie commented that she enjoyed (she actually said she 'cracked up,' which might not be the same thing as 'enjoyed') listening to Bob Dylan's rendition of "Must Be Santa." That's one Dylan collection I don't have, but I do have that particular song. The music video is hysterical. And kind of weird. Without further ado or comment, I give you:

Okay, so about Black Friday. This was the second time in recent memory that I've ventured out for Black Friday deals. I frequently shop online on Black Friday, but because I was in a metropolitan area that had STORES I thought I'd try going to Kohl's for another pair of their Sonoma jeans, a brand that fits me pretty perfectly. (I'm so lame … I wasn't even doing Christmas shopping, it was me-me-me shopping.)

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

It wasn't this bad the last time. Seriously. (Could be that I was shopping in household goods that time, instead of clothing.) The line to check out was going to take at LEAST an hour, by my estimate. I was astonished. I had to walk past the line of waiting customers to get to the denim department. I couldn't believe how long it was.

I was going to look for a couple of blazers while I was there, but walking past all those people waiting to pay was, um, quite the deterrent. I suddenly felt a tremendous urge to get. out. of. there.

I needed to be home.

Where I could get online and go shopping. Heh.

As both of you know, I live a rather solitary life in the Middle of Nowhere. I regularly interact with people once a week at the prison and once a month at our county Democratic women's club meeting. I shop for food a couple times a month. It's not that I don't like being around people, or that I can't handle it (i.e., I don't have a crowd phobia). But it definitely makes me a little uncomfortable.

The bigger issue with this year's Black Friday experience, though, was the idea of spending all that time standing in line, doing nothing else constructive. I thought about how much closer to home I'd be if I just got in the car and started driving. So that's what I did.

Maybe I should have taken my knitting with me. But then I would have needed a backpack, because I would have been juggling jeans and yarn and needles, oh my.

This is beginning to sound like one of those "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" stories, so I'll just stop RIGHT NOW.

And wish you all a pleasant Sunday, as you gear up for CYBER MONDAY.

To lay down my (virtual) pen

Oh, how I would love to not have this obligation today. I'm not obligated to you, not even obligated to NaBloPoMo. I'm obligated to me. I made a promise and I will keep it. Thirty days. Every day. A daily blog post, no matter what.

My travels are nearly always to visit the not-so-far-flung members of my family. I'm able to drive to my destinations within a few hours, and I don't dislike the driving, especially when I've popped a good audiobook onto the iPod.

My current visit has been lovely and fun and relaxing.

My problem with not wanting to write when I travel is that the other promise I've made to myself is to not write about them – the family members – here. I'm not sure what kind of blog this is – it doesn't fit so neatly into a weight-loss or running or foodie category, though it began, years ago, as a way for me to document the eternal losing of the lard. I know what kind of blog it isn't, though, and it isn't one where I share my children's and grandchildren's lives.

And so I feel inauthentic when I post while I'm visiting one or the other of them. Like I'm making things up and being less than open. You don't care, you probably don't even notice.

But it's quite difficult for me, who so easily spills the daily drivel of my Middle-of-Nowhere world, to hold back when I find myself in civilization again.

So today's post (finally, right?) will be about how I felt as we headed out yesterday to pick up some things at Kohl's.

I don't much care to shop anywhere, and Kohl's – while their reasonably priced goods are of perfectly fine quality – seems crowded and claustrophobic to me, at least the few times I've been there in the past. You can imagine how unsettled I was at the thought of going there on Black Friday.

There wasn't much traffic on the way, which was nice, perhaps lulling me into a sense of "this isn't going to be so bad after all." The parking lot was packed, of course, but we didn't have trouble finding a spot to land.

Inside, however, people and carts and baskets and children and sales staff and even dropped merchandise jammed the aisles. I worried that my purse would shatter the delicate Christmas ornaments on display. (And I idly wondered how many of those ornaments actually survived their trip from China to North Carolina.)

Once I settled down a bit, I realized this was a good opportunity to actually, um, do some shopping. That's what stores are for, right? I found flannel sheets to give to my sister and bathroom rugs for my guest bath. Black Friday. Done.

Today is Small Business Saturday. We're heading out to a small area of a distant city where the shops will be owned by individuals, not big corporations. Our goal is not really to support small businesses, if we wanted to do that we could stay here to do that. But it will be nice to have a destination where we can enjoy some holiday spirit. And maybe a Moravian spice cookie with tea.

I hope your day is filled with holiday joy. Or football. I'll be heading home tomorrow, back to real life in the Middle of Nowhere.