so last night was somewhat of a disaster.
it started when i got home from work and was all jacked up (inexplicably), which made me want to DO SOMETHING, which resulted in the irrational decision of repainting the bathroom.
about 8 minutes into this, i realized i would rather stick hot pokers in my eyeballs than balance in an inverted position on a chair that is one wobble away from collapse while trying to put a fresh double coat of high gloss white on the ceiling. painting ceilings sucks. period.
but it was too late to turn back so i kicked it into overdrive and started speed painting like Jackie Joyner-Kersee on an 8-ball.
bathroom finished, i cracked a beer and hopped onto my oversized bed – which truthfully is about 2 inches from needing a step-stool – and sank into a guilty pleasure haze.
Bachelor Pad, people. there is only one legit reason to watch this and that is Jesse B . . . who might be dumb as rocks but is so friggin’ hot that i really don’t care so much about brain cells. in your pretend life, brain cells don’t matter anyway.
enter exhibit a:
okay, so i’m not digging the swim trunks and the cocktail placement is pretty stoopid (but not at all surprising, coming from the ABC network suits) but i’m into every single thing else about all of this.
and then my guest room closet collapsed. and i mean c-o-l-l-a-p-s-e-d. and i choked on my beer. and almost peed my pants. from the next room, i thought for sure my house was under attack. when in reality, 20 years of vintage t-shirts, designer jeans, and a stuffed cat (which i don’t ever remember acquiring but i’m certain comes with a good story i wish i hadn’t blocked from my memory) proved to be a wee bit too much for the shelf which has been supporting the weight of such items for the last 6 years.
and there was an acura license plate which emerged from the rubble.
i have never owned an acura.
so i did what any normal person would do in this situation. i took a picture and walked away.
but not before i did a little shopping in my closet. among a slew of other things, i found this pair of shoes which made the whole apocalyptic closet collapse well worth it. i had completely forgotten about these little retro inspired diddys, which i totally love a lot. not because they are the most comfortable or the prettiest or whatever but because they make me want to put on a frilly dress, go some place like a wedding, and twirl around in circles.
but i am seriously reconsidering the length of what i thought could be a dress. this can not be a dress . . . . . . . . . . can it???
i suppose it could if i were in vegas. but i am not in vegas.
and in case anyone ever had any question that i was in a sorority, well let me just say this:
because i have somewhere between 68 and 422 Chi Omega t-shirts to prove it.
nevermind all the t-shirts i got from the fraternities.
did i do anything in college other than attend formals, semi-formals, bid days, game days, lawn dances, parents weekends, big sis/lil sis events, old south weekends, mallard balls, date nights, date days, and other assorted Greek sponsored events??
thanks for the out of state tuition, mom & dad.
and thanks for all the cash it probably took to buy all these shirts which now lay in a sad pile in the middle of the floor.
because apparently they weigh a billion pounds all stacked together.