Stephanie Gayle

When I got home today I had a thin envelope from the Fellowship Committee. I remembered thin envelopes from the days of college applications. They boded no good. Indeed, my assumption proved correct. I'm not getting a fellowship. I'm not getting waitlisted for a fellowship. I'm rejected.

I didn't expect to get the fellowship, so the rejection isn't a shock, more of an unpleasant surprise. Ah well. Who needs three weeks of solitude in a cabin to write?

Saddened, but not bested, I turned my attention to the Lux Sailor Pants I've been anticipating for a week. Urban Outfitters (I know, color me shocked too) had the wide legged trousers in a too-big size, so I mail ordered the size I hoped was just right. If the distance between my ladybits and my navel were about three inches shorter, I'd have been delighted. As it was, not so much. I've got a long torso. This sometimes causes problems. It's gotten to the point where I can look at pants and cringe, aware that the zipper seam would hurt me if I let it.

I think I may be more devastated by the pants than by the fellowship. These were extremely comfortable, casual-yet-dressy pants. Damn it. It's nearly my birthday. Were perfect pants too much to ask? It seems so. If, however, I follow the Calvin Trillin theory of spent money, I can now reinvest the money I'll get back when I return said pants into something else that will delight me.

Hmmm...what to buy, what to buy?