*a week? really? where the hell did my summer go?*
*summer? what summer? has there even been a summer? oh wait, different blog...*
And apparently it's going to be kind of a fancy shindig. I was told emphatically by Flip Flop that jeans and a hoody just weren't going to do it *bummer* and that business casual wasn't quite the vibe my sis was going for either.
So, I had to go shopping this weekend. And not just shopping (which I hate) but dress shopping.
I don't do dresses, people. In fact, I don't even own a dress. I own horses instead. And in my mind it's always been an either/or kind of deal. You either own horses or wear dresses. You don't do both. Never. I'm sure all my horsaii peeps will back me on this. Other than a long skirt here and there, you don't see us dressed to the 9's. You see us dressed in muck boots. It's just the way it is...
So, I'm sure you can understand my apprehension about shopping for something that is basically foreign to me. In fact, I was having nightmares about it. Which wasn't helped by the fact that I fell asleep watching Dateline on the eve of my shopping trip.
Keith Morrison reporting:
It's not something you see very often... a massacre in a Macy's in the quaint suburb of Portland, Oregon. But last Saturday that's exactly what happened.
*in his most dramatic voice*
There is a saying that no good deed goes unpunished and this horrible tragedy is just another reminder of that. She says it was the hormones. She says she was pushed past her limits of endurance. She says she's sorry. But is she? Really?
Our story begins when SweetPea is talked into dress shopping for her sister's wedding by her mother, Flip Flop. Key and Pammy are also along for the purpose of consulting... for, you see, the center of our story has no fashion sense at all. None. And even though SweetPea protested the idea of even buying a dress she was assured that it would be nothing at all to find one. Painless, even. If only she had known then what we all know now... that a dressing room is not big enough for bad self-esteem, raging hormones and 4 grown women.
And that's where the police found SweetPea weeping hysterically... in the dressing room of the local Macy's where she had strangled the other three with the belt of the 142nd dress she had been forced to try on.
So, the good news is that no one actually died while I was dress shopping. Yes, there were some touch and go moments but I was able to fight the urge off to actually kill someone... even though the hormones were telling me to ahead and do it. No one would care, really.
As a side note: the IUD worked awesomely when it came to keeping the cramps under control. Yay, me!! However, the downside was the paranoia was a little more extreme. But I survived with no one dead (including myself) and with all of my relationships intact. That, my friends, is a success.
So the only real saving grace for this horrible trip was that I wasn't spending my money. Flip Flop paid for the entire outfit (thank you, mom). If I had been forced to actually spend my own money it might have ended with me behind bars. However, I did get a kick-ass dress and I tried on some very sexy shoes (couldn't actually buy any of them because I can't actually, you know, walk in stiletto heels). I did get a pretty nice pair though...
Not bad, huh?
Eventually I'll get pictures of the whole outfit together. Hopefully it looks as good as I think it will.
That's if I can find some Spanks that take me from a size 14 down to a size 8.
Those do exist right?