Lighter

So I unfriended 80 - yes, EIGHTY - Facebook "friends" today. It was harder than I thought it would be; I actually had to do it in phases, scrutinizing my Friends List several times at intervals throughout the day. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings (though I acknowledge that I may be flattering myself by thinking anyone would even care), and it was not any kind of statement - I just wanted to whittle my list down to people I actually communicate with and have some sort of relationship with. Even after the purging, I am left with 130 friends on my list which still seems excessive because I don't think I even know 130 people in real life. I think in the future I will be a little more selective about which friend requests I actually accept.

I also returned two of the four shamefully expensive bras I bought at Nordstrom last week. This was something of an ordeal in itself. I know that Nordstrom is famous for its customer service and accepting returns no questions asked, but my stomach was still aflutter at the prospect of returning the bras. I should say that I'm not really a Nordstrom girl - it's always felt a bit out of my league (I'm not worthy!). And after all the time and trouble Olivia the Bra Fitter spent with me, well, I just felt kind of bad. And I was afraid, despite Nordstrom's reputation for accepting returns, that I was going to have to explain myself, and then maybe they'd try to talk me out of returning them, and then my resolve would crumble and I'd be just one more sucker, suckered into buying expensive Nordstrom bras.

So I skulked into the Nordstrom lingerie department this morning, hoping that Olivia the Bra Fitter wouldn't be there (yeah, like she'd even remember me), with the two bras that I had resolved to part with. Lucky me, nobody was in line at the checkout, and it was a different girl working. Yay! "I'd like to return these," I said. "They didn't work out for you?" she asked. "Umm, no, I guess not," I said. "Sure, no problem." And then? Olivia the Bra Fitter is suddenly approaching. I busy myself digging through my purse, hoping my hair will obscure my face so I'm not revealed.

She didn't notice me. Or if she did, I meant nothing to her. Gosh, after all we went through together . . .

And I'm now $140 richer!