Like so many of my fellow Americans, I suffer a horrible addiction where I walk in to Target with a specific item in mind to purchase--that item and nothing else, and walk out with a lot more in hand than what I was expecting. I didn't do so bad today. I got some panties and socks (I'm finally throwing out all my old underwear that have holes), and came out with those and two shirts. Lovely tank tops with a cowl neckline. I heart cowl necklines (see my red-and-blue duck dress!). I wore the black one to the Urban Family Get Together tonight, and it showed off my new necklace from yesterday so perfectly, that the necklace got unsolicited compliments. Whoot!
Now, can someone explain to me when I wear a size 2 dress, a size 4 skirt and size 6 panties? Seriously? What the fuck is going on here? It is so baffling to me that women have to deal with this bullshit. Is it so hard to size things by you know, inches? Give me an inseam and hip circumference, then I'll know what panties will fit the best. There is nothing worse than wearing panties that are too small for my ham loaves.
It was a great Urban Family Get Together (as always). I ate this MOIST cake (C, I hope you're reading this and just cried in your heated seat a little bit) that was made of white wine and butter. I totally thought it would be gross, and I was so wrong. My caramel and butterscotch magic cookies bars were a hit (that's two different flavors), even though the edges were a bit burnt (note to self: you cannot hear the microwave time go off when Vitesse is playing loudly on the stereo and the iSuckBot is vrooming around the hardwood floor). Guamaniac brought a hot boy--I can't wait to find out the details on our date tomorrow. I made terrible comments regarding KiKi's dish (ew, ceviche), and honestly it's not because he's the tallest yummiest black guy I know. So stop calling me racist, Guammy. I'll tear off your mustache and show everyone how you really are a 12-year-old boy disguised in that handsome body with the super smooth skin. Also, I would eat the pizza bagels because they have mushrooms on them. It is so hard to please me (stop snorting over there, BOY!). My friends are so talented and funny. I'm glad we get together every month. To have something to actually look forward to every month is a serious pleasure.
Now, time to decide my outfit for tomorrow (Guammy is wearing all black, so obviously I need to be the colorful flower on his gay arm--I'm thinking red dress and turquoise tights, yes?). Then more James Tiptree, Jr. for fantastical dreams.
Goodnight kittens.
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