Today was a rather long day. I went shopping with my grandmother at the Mall of Georgia, more specifically at Macy's. Now, that might not seem like it would be that much of an ordeal, but then you haven't met my grandmother. She's a 5'1" British lady, 80 years old, with jet black hair. She's also the most intense woman I have ever met. Things will be done her way, or not at all. So she gets it in her head that we're going shopping at Macy's, since she has a $100 gift card. I, however, do not like Macy's. It's fine for coats or shoes, neither of which I need, or for bathing suits, but it's winter. The clothes are either too young or too old for my personal taste, but that doesn't matter, because we're going.
My dad tells me I get to drive the hour trip, because Nana can't drive- she has this bad tendency to stop at the end of on ramps and go 45 miles an hour on the interstate, neither of which are conducive to living for very long. So, for an hour, every time the person in front of me hits the brakes or we come up to a red light or a stop sign, I get told to slow down (even if I'm several hundred ft. away). I get told to turn my music down, to keep my eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, and mainly to slow down in general (I was going 74 on the freeway, where the speed limit is 70). By the time we get there, my nerves are a bit frazzled.
Once we're in the store, she heads straight for the winter coats, despite the fact that I already own and am wearing a black peacoat, and so do not need another one. She doesn't listen, and we go look anyway. She parades probably 50 coats in front of me, all black, and most of them peacoats. I don't find anything I like.
Then we go to the shoe department. I don't see anything I want because they're mostly heels, and as a college student, I don't really have anywhere to wear them. She does manage to find a pair of tennis shoes, almost identical to the ones I am already wearing, except that they are Coach, and therefore absurdly overpriced for shoes. I do love Coach, and have several purses, but I just can't justify that much money for tennis shoes that I cannot treat like tennis shoes, because you just don't get Coach dirty.
Then back to the coats, even though I told her there was nothing there I wanted.
Lingerie department for a robe, which I actually wanted, but none of them were "quality" enough for her taste.
I say I want a scarf. We look at scarves. She thinks they're "bloody awful!" so we go back to the shoes. They don't have my size.
Bathing suits. Even though it was 12 degrees yesterday. I don't find anything.
Back to the scarves, where I pick out one I want, and she finally agrees! I also get a pair of tights, since I get cold, a cardigan, and mascara ($20 dollar mascara! Ridiulous), and FINALLY, we are done.
Another hour drive. Apparently I should have never been given a license.
I am now watching "How It's Made" in front of a roaring fire with my dog and bowl of ice cream. Ah, relaxation.
