im ready for my vacation now, just dont make me try on anymore swimsuits

I’ve mentioned it about a million times, but this coming Friday I leave for a four-day weekend in Mexico.

I’m pretty much beside myself and can’t function as a normal human being until I’m on that plane.

We have someone staying at our house to watch the girls (aka our dogs), all of my clients are aware I’ll be away, I have my away message all raring to be put on display, and holy crap I need to be away already.

Last night Kh and I got a little over zealous and looked at 600+ photos of the resort we’ll be staying at on TripAdvisor.  I needed to get a better idea of what I should plan on wearing, I know, a little silly right?

I bought 5 pairs of shoes for this upcoming trip, or rather Summer in general really. 4 pairs of sandals, and one pair of wedges. This isn’t including the pair of sandals I bought last minute at an end of season sale last Fall. I probably only plan on bringing 4 pairs with me, however. Kh doesn’t think that’s reasonable, but I completely do.

On her way home this past Friday she stopped in to H&M real quick to get some shorts and dress pants for herself and ended up buying me a vacation purse. I’m pretty much the luckiest girl ever. She knows my style so well she can buy things for me. Uh, true love.

I also found this super cute maxi dress at Kohls, surprisingly enough. It has multi-color triangles on the bottom. While shocking it’s not all black, I’m pretty much in love with it.It's in the top right, the others just didn't do it for me.

Tomorrow when my household settles down a bit more, I plan on doing some last minute shopping. I need to get at least two more bathing suit tops (shoot me now, kay?), and one (who am I kidding, a couple more) maxi dresses.

I’m mentally preparing myself for the saga that is trying on a swimsuit. A couple of years ago I found the cutest two-piece, tank/halter top swimsuit in the maternity section at Target. Do I care its maternity? Not in the slightest. It’s got a scalloped edge on the bottoms and fits my curves.

On my last adventure to Target I thought I’d try on a few (4) bathing suits to humor myself. And humor myself it did not. The two that humored me the least?

The first one was a one-piece, with a built in padded bra situation. The particular size I was trying on fit me great in the mid section. But if you cast your eyes lower you’d look upon the forming of a camel toe, and if your eyes wandered upwards you’d find my boobs strangely getting choked down, but not even remotely filling up the padded cups that were sewn haphazardly into the top of the swimsuit. Like some kind of stretched out taffy with a ping pong ball in the end. And by ping pong ball I mean a nipple and my hard boob parts.

The second one was a black halter top that fit great, but the bottom portion of it let me say hello to my old friend camel toe that I had just seen a glimpse of previously. It also strangely rode up my butt crack and wouldn’t even come close to middle of my hips.

I left Target feeling like I had been slapped with a heavy dose of body shame and sprinkled with some self-loathing. Do you know how I changed it?

I got naked. Stood in front of my mirror and said “fuck you Target bathing suits.”

Of course I waited until I was home to do all of the above-mentioned naked shenanigans. But that’s generally what I do when I’m having a day when I feel less than or some how not fully whole as a result from shitty fitting rooms and ill fitting clothing.

So in closing. I’m going to fucking Mexico in 5 days and my mind is completely shot. I will be sitting my ass in a chair, on a gorgeous beach, drinking before noon, and writing in one of my many blank notebooks. I plan on clearing my head, centering myself, and probably drinking too much and chasing an iguana around.

xo

my only weakness is a listed crime

I woke up this morning hoping it was an extra weekend day, but it wasn’t. I’m also a day closer to my birthday, and the combination of these two facts made me feel like hiding out under the covers. At least for an extra hour.

My weekend was one of those low-key barely do anything but spend all the money in the world kind of weekends.

For the first time in a while Kh and I went out for drinks and dinner. But mostly drinks Friday night. I had a beer, and some wine. Beer = not such a good idea for me. Throwing up all night is awesome. 

I have a gluten intolerance. I love beer more than I could ever love a child born from my own womb, but I can't drink it. And GF beer makes me want to hurl just thinking about it. 

Saturday I had a bazillion little work related things to do, and barely slept Friday night. Which translates to.. I took a nap in the afternoon. Boooya. It was pretty great, I must admit.

After my sleeping beauty goal was complete, we went to Target to pick up “all those things” that we had been running out of but refused to make trips to the store for. Those few things turned into a cart load of money symbols dancing around.

It never fails. I always end up buying the same few things when I go to Target. Panties, and makeup. Sometimes I mix it up and buy a shirt, dress, or pants. But generally panties and some form of makeup makes it’s way into my basket.

You’d think my dresser would be overrun with panties at this point, but I think someone in the apartment below me monitors when I’m doing my laundry and steals some of them out of the dryer. Pantie thief! I still can’t find my favorite black pair from my last Target excursion.. Oh well, look at the cute Spring colors I have now to replace them.

It was time for me to replace my favorite pink and red lipstick as well.

I was a bit disappointed in their clothing selection. How is that no matter what level of self love you have for yourself at the point in which you cross the threshold into a Target dressing room, it’s ripped away from you the second you look at yourself in the changing room mirrors? I also felt real old shopping in the Juniors section and over hearing this conversation.

“Ok, like you totally have to pick out clothes for me, and I’ll totally pick out clothes for you. You know what I mean?”

“Totally.”

I always try things on, and then think it over before buying them. I’m liking the striped dress and the floral one.

Lets just skip right to Sunday. I made Kh leave the house early, we grabbed coffee and egg sandwiches at our favorite café then did the most horrible thing in the world.. Grocery shopping at Trader Joes on a Sunday morning. Even early, it was terrible. Everyone turns into savage beasts when trying to get their bags of broccoli, and their bananas.

We survived. And went shopping.. again. This time, I hated it but Kh was real into it.

I realized one thing; peplum shirts make my boobs look ginormous. I even tried on one of those mesh insert peplum shirts, which just made them even more gigantic. Bam! 

 I had a few misses.The one on the right I liked, but it had a busted seam in the front. And the left one was to short in the front.

But ended up getting these three shirts. For under $40. And a pair of black skinny jeans, on sale for $19. I love being cheap.

Here's to another Monday. 

xo

i wish i could be in you one last time

It’s always important to blog about something of content. Something of substance. Something people can relate to. Right? Pfft.. Well, that’s why I’m going to tell you all about how upset I am with my favorite pair of boots dying on me. 

Oh, my dear boots. I purchased you for less than $20 at Burlington Coat Factory 2 years ago. I was unsure about you. Your slouchy, ill-fitting tops hit awkwardly on my calves. My legs looked short and stumpy in you, and I’ll admit I didn’t love you right away.

I put you in my closet. On the bottom, buried under my other black boots. Collecting dust, and slowly being forgotten. I’m sorry for so much lost time. I’m sorry I neglected your needs and want to be worn and used like any other boot.

One day, I put my feet in you while in a rush to leave the house. You were there for me, and you felt so right with me in you. You brought my otherwise sloppy outfit together, making it look like I tried, when everyone knows I didn’t. Oh, how I hate not trying when leaving the house.

You went with me on shopping trips, and trips to the grocery store. You were there waiting when I couldn’t be bothered with a zipper or shoelaces.

The first signs of decay came when my foot got wet while walking on the sidewalk. I knew our days were numbered. Slowly, I felt more of a draft and a cold distancing between us. Today, your sole shattered. There is no fixing what we had, no amount of googling for your long lost twin will bring me satisfaction of wearing you again.

It’s going to take me at least 2 weeks to throw you away. Maybe, just maybe I’ll try to glue you back together and hold on for just a bit longer. 

 

Oh, my dear boots.

xo