Frankenboobs and New Coats

Surgery was a huge success and I am recovering nicely, thank you and thank Superfly, he's been a supersweet hunk of a nurse.

Had to resked the big interview Friday but everyone was quite understanding and kind.

Presently resting and buying stuff off EBay. Hello? Scored a gorgeous, fitted camel coat I wouldn't have dreamed of ever buying at retail (600+). Some woman somewhere did buy it at retail and now &mdash because of weight gain or pregnancy or cash shortage — needs to unload this brand new coat. Hooray!

I *heart* Ebay. I haven't sold anything yet, for that information and advice you'll want to consult Superfly, who recently sold-off a "Local Pickup Only" item, the trickiest. Besides gorgeous coats for myself, I've bought halloween costume stuff and hard-to-find toys for my Troublets. It rules!

Coats are hard to buy. Wandering around a mall store or looking at catalogs, it's hard to imagine a puffy, furry blob looking good on you. And buying three coats — one for work and in-between seasons, one for extreme cold, and one you wear all the time, that almost defines you, is time-consuming and maddening.

I have to replace my definer coat. No store or catalog offered what I was looking for. I saw the coat I wanted in a movie from the '60s. When that happens, you can go vintage, or you can go high-end designer. If you're smart, you'll check Ebay.

Speaking of coats that define: In high-school I wore this distressed-leather brown aviator jacket with a fuzzy collar. My older sister sent it to me from a hip store in New York, with some rhinestone pins to adorn it. Yeah, I sure stood out in suburban Denver, Colorado wearing that thing. I love it so much and didn't care that in wearing it to punk shows and parties, exposing myself to people wanting to kick my ass for bucking the painted-black, leather-motorcycle-jacket uniform.

I still mourn that coat. I lost it my senior year, when the ex-girlfriend of a guy I was dating broke into my house and stole it. I know this because I was laying there in bed with strep throat and saw and heard the whole thing, but was helpless to do anything. Payback is a bitch, though, and my little sister's boyfriend &mdash a skinhead — arranged for the girl resposible to have her ass handed to her by a skinhead chick. Extreme, I know, and while the thought was appreciated, I would have preferred just having the coat back to having Brandy throttled in it. Oh, well.

Unrelated, but important: I promise to shove the next girl I see wearing a flappy beaver trapper hat. Stupid Elmer Fudd-looking things.

What's your defining coat?