I am one of those rare forms of girl who actually does NOT like shopping. I think my opinion of the activity might shift if I were suddenly rich and didn't have to start every search by checking the price tag, but as it stands now, I hate it. I don't like trying clothes on, as I find it a royal pain in the ass to get in and out of clothes repeatedly. Money is always tight, so shopping for me was never done as a pleasantry, always out of necessity. Therefore I only go looking at clothes when I actually need something, never as a form of retail therapy (for me retail therapy generally comes in the form of a new computer/camera/game). It comes as no surprise then that my very least favourite item to shop for is a bathing suit.

Last weekend I decided to pop into the mall on the way home to begin what I know will be a long search for a suitable swimsuit for Israel. While I do have a new bathing suit from last year's trip, I was hoping to get a second one and, perhaps (for once in my LIFE), a 2 piece. I am, for the most part, a one piece/comfort-over-fashion kind of shopper when it comes to swimsuits. This is for generally practical reasons... I intend to actually SWIM in it, as opposed to many girls who just like to lounge around in the sun in theirs. I loathe sitting and baking in the sun, and choose instead to swim, splash around on shore or go scuba diving/snorkeling. I also am not at all comfortable with the idea of a 2 piece suit despite being a girl of petite and fairly well proportioned stature. In other words, I am short and skinny, and by all accounts small breasted. Given that I did not inherit the ample bosom my mother did, I figured.. how hard can it be to get a swimsuit to house what little I have?

I quickly remembered why I don't ever shop alone if it can be helped; I tend to give up very early on in the shopping experience, losing enthusiasm if I don't find something I like fairly quickly. Recognizing this weakness I forced myself to turn around as I was leaving Bikini Village to go back and take a real stab at finding a suit. I had a style in mind that I wanted to try but couldn't find something suitable. Going back for another try I had dropped my standards a bit and grabbed a bunch of suits from the racks and headed into a changeroom (if you can all it that. It was a room of stalls built of straw with shower curtains for doors).

I started with the top, struggling greatly to get it on as the clasp it was made with was somewhat difficult to navigate. Once I had that on I took a step back and had a gander; it looked alright, I thought. So far so good. Then I grabbed the bottoms, in the style of short shorts, if you know what I mean. I put those on and thought... omigod.. I actually look FAT. And no, I am not like all the other girls of the world who think they look fat even though they are skinnier than a post. I know I am skinny and tiny and am never, I mean NEVER insecure about my weight... until that moment. I looked a bit pudgy as the bathing suit highlighted some ripples and lumps on me that I had not noticed prior. I thought.... holy wow, is THIS what happens when you turn 30??? And with that the bathing suit was off, no others were tried on and I was OUTTA there. No bathing suit was procured that day and I have not forced myself back into another bathing suit outing since. Maybe I'll take another crack at it this weekend. Or maybe I'll just live with the suit I have.

Next thing to shop for: a sleeping bag.