Bust Darts and Other Annoying Things Cyclists Do.

So I tried on some very nice pinafore dresses in a well-known chain shop the other day, and I was super giddy because they had a variety of designs, in my size, and in the sale. Winner. And yet, those pesky bust darts got in the way, or failed to be where they should be and consequently I didn't buy anything, because they looked ridiculous.

If any of you are reading this thinking what the hell are bust darts, they're these annoying sort of seams that are added onto shirts, blouses, some tops and dresses to infer where your breasts should fit. Because of course we all have the same sized breasts and we are all the same height, so of course these bust darts are universal......

They're crazy and no wonder women panic so much about sizes and stuff. When you try something on and your boobs come in lower than the bust darts, or the bust darts are further around your sides than they should be, this makes you feel like you're the wrong shape, or your boobs aren't big enough, or you're not tall enough. It's also really annoying when otherwise the item fits well.

I just have to wonder if these bust darts are still necessary. We're not all the same shape even within our clothing size. Of course we're not. We all wear that size differently. So why should we have to fit out bits in where they say so? Our bits should be free to fill whatever space they so choose.

Bloody bust darts. Needless to say, I didn't buy any, despite my deep yearning for a pinafore dress. And it didn't exactly make me want to go and try anything else on.

Moving on to a completely unrelated topic, but one I've ranted about many times, and that is the two wheeled menace to pedestrians: cyclists. Now, my rants are usually concerned with zebra crossings and cyclists, but yesterday I was crossing a small side road that had a pedestrian light on it. I waited for the green man and strolled out, just as the stupid woman cyclist decided she was going to start cycling, after previously waiting nicely at the light. She gave me this look like I'd just stepped in shit and then kicked her in the face with my shitty shoe, and I felt I had to shout at her: I'm on green.

What a dick! Just wait until your frickin' light and stop trying to run over pedestrians!

Okay, I'll keep it short and sweet today. Enjoy your Tuesdays. Watch out for cyclists and bust darts.

Rants.

How do you say, I suck, in Italian?

Do you remember in high school when you had that one particular lesson you dreaded? And before each of those lessons you felt a bit sick and whilst in the lesson you willed your teacher not to ask you a question? Well, it's been a while but I'm pretty sure my Monday night Italian classes have become this.

Tonight I was a complete shambles. I didn't understand anything coming out of the teacher's mouth. And for some reason she seemed intent on asking me things and further shaming me. She received mostly a stony silence and a confused expression. There was nothing going on in my brain this evening, or at least nothing particularly helpful.

I turn up every week and I do my homework and I try to do a little extra than that, but that's just not enough. If you can't make the verbs stick in your head, or pluck useful adjectives out of your bum hole, then you're unlikely to succeed. (I'm sure that what it says in the official course outline.)

I just hate feeling really dim. I hate knowing that I'm the thickest in the class. And I know that is not a useful word, phrase or sentiment, but come on, we all do it. We all think, man I hope there's someone worse than me. It doesn't matter the situation, we always hope there will be someone worse at it that us. But tonight, it was me. Tonight, I was the dim wit. I was the one they all looked at and pitied, and I hated every second of it.

It made me angry and frustrated and I'm not embarrassed to say: extremely sad. It allowed my super pessimistic side to shine through and take over. It made me feel defeated, overcome. It made me feel stupid, but then also silly for feeling stupid. I know it is okay to fail. I know it is okay to find things hard and to struggle, but in a ninety minute language class, it's damn embarrassing and quite shaming to be failing for every single minute of it.

Doing supposed 'pair work' didn't help as I was sat next to a right cow who wouldn't even look at me, let alone work with me. So fuck her quite frankly. She might have a better grasp of Sembra and Sembrano, but she's got no fucking manners. At least I wasn't the shittest at that. Hooray for small mercies.

Anyhoo, enough of this self-indulgent, self-hating barrage of nonsense. I was shit. Hopefully next week I'll be less shit. What else can I do but carry on?

Rants out.