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!