In Which I Sneeze and Procrastinate and Cook Up Some Diva Behavior

It seems at the ripe age of 25, I still am stuck in a whirling vortex of collegiate uncertainty.

I spent the first official day of Christmas break fighting with mmy mom. Just like in college. It didn't help that I was supposed to go (bridal) dress shopping with Katy and Heather, but I was too busy fighting to leave. They found "the" dress and the bridesmaids dress. Just the two of them. The dress alone is $265. American dollars. Not yen, pesos, or Canadian dollars. I mean, it could be worse, the dress could be $265 Euro. I was told $150 max. I was being told this on the phone, after a day of yelling and crying. After I saw the dress (gotta love the internet) I pretty much had to hang up. Abruptly.

To justify my shit fit, I will show you the dress.

If you are bigger than a size 10 (like I am), this is not going to be a good look. It's like a chiffon mummy with a sweetheart neckline. And while we're at it, let's shove some 38DDs in that strapless sweetheart. I am going to look like a pregnant sausage. I am not paying $265 for that privelege. If I am paying that much for a dress, I better be the biggest fox in the room. I am easily the biggest girl in the bridal party, and I refuse to look hideous. It was kind of adding insult to injury when Katy called to check on me this morning and basically let it slip that she tried the dress on and it looked really hot on her. She was lucky I was eating, otherwise I might have really diva'd out. Just because the dress looks hot on you, that's the dress you pick? Uuuuugh, I could choke skinny bitches.

Not to mention that high-end retailers like that usually don't have anything bigger than a 12 or 14 available on the floor (a bridal 12/14 is like a true 10/12, maybe even a 8/10). Apparently they're going to look at David's Bridal too (due in part ro my price point freakout), just because their price point is far more reasonable (durrr). I'd deal with the polyester (uuugh) if it meant that I wasn't looking like a grape draped in chiffon.

Unfortunately, everyone that I've shown the dress to seems to think it will be cute.

There's probably going to be a fitting next week, and if it doesn't end with me crying, it will be an act of God. Maybe I will just drink until I don't care what I look like. Maybe I just won't eat until then. As a temporary pacifier, I told myself that if that's the dress they go with, I am putting them in the ugly dresses when I get married. But to be honest, I'm not sure what would look bad on either of them.

Future fashion warfare!

In Which I Take A Personal Snow Day And Eat Applesauce.

I have been rolling and rambling and letting the birds seek shelter on my window ledge.

Chicago was pretty and nice (nice modifying the fact that I got to see my boyfriend and not the weather). It was warm Saturday, which made the grad thing more bearable, but the rain and shitty folding chairs made me into an old lady. By the end of the very enightening two hours, my back was giving me all kinds of middle finger messages. So we left and decided to go to the movies. Given my angry-ass back, I readily welcomed this change of pace. Turns out, if your back is a hateful bitch, two and a half hours in basically a squishy folding chair, this is not the answer. But all the crying I did at the end of the movie helped mask the pain (daaaaamn, Harry Potter, your Deathly Hallows are depressing!). Sunday, I drank wine and napped until it was time for me to go. Then I tacked two hours of travel time onto an already five hour trip. My ETA to come home was 11:20. My actual arrival came at 1:15, 1:30 or so. Got home at two, tried to sleep, didn't sleep until 3:30 and woke up at 6:30 to try and get myself together for work.

My prayers for a snow day went unanswered, so I tried to trek my way across the universe, er, city. An hour's worth of travel got me a mile, maybe two from home. Literally, by the time I would have made it to work, it would have been time for me to get back in the car and come home. Everyone seems to live a lot closer to the school than I do, so I let today be their problem. I don't feel very guilty about it. Death is not on my list o things to do today.

So...ummm...my friend Heather, who I may or may not have discussed with you (I have, but in case you need a refresher, Heather is one of my good friends from high school. My current boyfriend is her ex), oficially got engaged this weekend. Platinum band, black diamond stone. To say that I'm jealous would be an understatement. However, I am not the hateful kind of jealous, but rather the "waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah when's it going to be myyyyyyyyyyyyy tuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrn?" jealous. I am legitimately happy for her. Her finace is a great guy, and I want those two crazy kids to make it.

This is all an exercise in learning patience. It was five years for Heather and Chris, its been two years for me, I can cool my jets.

Let the record also show that I am becoming more aware of what kind of theatrics go into planning, performing in, and executing a wedding. Throwing in my current boyfriend/her ex that she's barely on civil terms with only spices things up.

Especially if you consider that I am going to be a bridesmaid.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with this. To be honest, I haven't told Matt yet. How do you bring that up? "Oh hey, btw your ex and my friend is getting married and I'm going to be a briedsmaid and you may or may not be invited."

Okay, it seems so much simpler when I just type it out in front of me, but I'm not out to hurt anyone or cause drama. I just want to support my friend and drink free booze and dance with the man I love. What's so bad about that? What's so funny about peace, love, and understanding?

And holy fuck being friends with the bride is expensive: bridesmaid dress, shoes, hair/makeup, engagement present, wedding present, bachelorette party...and those are the the ones I know for sure.

Let the wedding fever begin! Pink sapphire away!

In Which I Decide What You Can Do With Your Productivity

Put it where the sun don't shine...that's what you can do with your productivity.

My presence here wasn't completely for face, I actually did get a few things done.

I laughed at myself just now for having awful thoughts. Awful sexy thoughts. Who knew that two weeks away from one's boyfriend would turn me into this sexually starved she-wolf?

Good thing I'm stocking up on lovins this weekend. Now that's what I call a business pleasure trip.

Business Pleasure Trip: (n.) A trip one takes to address both professional and personal needs.

I think I'm making a friend. IRL too!

And for some bizarre reason I cannot stop singing "Kiss The Girl" from the Little Mermaid.

Too much running. All I've heard today is clomp clomp clomp of little feet up and down the hall.

I wish that I had gotten the tutoring job instead. It seems more my speed. Hanging out with the kids, reading shit, sharing my favorite books...but I had to go for the money.Mo money, mo candy. That's how it works.

I was going to log my hours right now, but I'd rather sit here and shoot the shit with you. there's no reason I can't do both, I guess....but I'm lazy right now.

I let it slip at work today that I'm not the sweet girl I appear to be. It just sort of came out that I was into what some might deem "kinky shit". But I don't think S&M is all that bad. After all, beauty is pain, princess. It wasn't workplace appropriate, but I got turned on anyway.

She-wolf, party of one? Come this way, your table is ready.

HAH! I made a pun!

its the coffee talking I swear.

its almost time to get all Loverboy in this bitch.

Rock this bitch!

In Which I Should Not Leave My Office

I've been getting my learn on. Learning about social and societal limitations, about the mental limitations of everyone on this fucking planet, about my abilities and limitations as a person, and about the long o sound.

Gotta love sharing an office.

I also love ego boosts in the form of friend requests. I've had more friend requests this week than I have had in the last two months. One of them is a little weird. I have heard of this person, I have six friends in common with them, but I have never actually met/hung out with them. One of my friends had a crush on this person a long time ago, and it more or less ended poorly. The former crush haver is not among our mutual friends. As a result, I have left them in friend request purgatory.

In other news, I have found the magic combination to make me lose Kill, Bang, Marry. I want to play that game. It's like MASH for grownups. Person A names three people and Person B has to decide who gets killed, who they would bang, and who they would marry. If Person A picks all repulsive people, Person B still has to make a decision with those three categories. Once, I presented a kill kill kill option. The people I was playing with weren't having it. It's best with 2-3 players.

I don't feel like doing shit today. Yesterday was busy, and Friday, I'm off to Chicago (4 day week this week).

One of my little pleasures in life: making stupid and obnoxious hash tags. Example: #DAMNyousasexybitch

I think that's my favorite.

Like you.