Why do I do This to Myself?

I'd been looking for the perfect pair of nude strappy sandals for the past couple of months and I finally found them this past week. I stumbled across a gorgeous pair of lovlies from LAMB, which wouldn't normally be my style but they had sky high heels and glorious looking leather, so I decided they would do. I searched high and low for them online and eventually found a pair in my size-ish, so I had to buy them. Ok, so they were 1/2 too small, but I was determined to make them work since they are sold out everywhere. When they finally came in I pulled them out of the box and they were everything I could have hoped for and more! Well, almost everything I could have hoped for...

Putting them on the first time was only slightly traumatic and soul scarring. They were obviously way too small. Oh well, I wasn't going to let a little (lot of excruciating) pain stop me from looking fabulous! I looked at my feet. They looked ridiculous. It was the shoe version of a size 8 in denial trying to fit into size 4 pants. I didn't even know there was such a thing as shoe muffin top until this point. Oh well, they would stretch out. I was going to wear them come hell or crippling foot deformity (which was highly likely).

It's now two weeks later. The shoes haven't stretched at all. It's funny because they are probably the only pair of leather shoes I have ever owned that didn't stretch at least a little. I've come to the conclusion that 1) I don't need to buy shoes that are too small ever again (no matter how adorable they are) and 2) Gwen Stefani is the devil and LAMB is a ridiculous brand name. This shit is bananas. Ba-na-nas.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

Sex and the City 2

So, today is shaping up to be the best day I've had in the past month or so, due in no small part to the release of the SATC 2 Movie Trailer! I've seriously been waiting for this with bated breath for the past two years. Sex and the City is practically a religion to me (and every other 20-something on the planet). Who cares that they are all in their 40s now and this movie could potentially destory all that is holy about the franchise? At midnight on May 27th, I'm going to be at the Rave theatre with my "I'm a Carrie" tank top on (y'all know you had one too) and a screw top bottle of white wine strategically concealed in my purse. That will, no doubt be the highlight of this year (and yes, I know I'm getting married. The statement stands).

This has got me so excited, I'm off to have a delicious cosmo (ok, 2) for lunch and I'm not even going to think about how many calories it has in it. Ok, that's I lie, I totally will be, but I'm drinking them anyway!

See for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5v7mE9ocFGs&feature=player_embedded

p.s. OMG, I was always team Aidan, which makes this trailer all the better!

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

Attic Fan = Huge Mistake

When I got home from work last night my house seriously felt (and smelled) like a cheap disgusting sauna. Both of my dogs were panting like crazy and giving me the stink eye for leaving them in that hot hell-hole all day. So I do what I always do when the house gets too hot, open a window and put the attic fan to work. I refuse to use the A.C. yet because 1) it's only April and it's beautiful out, and 2) I need that electric bill money for some other ridiculous frivolity (the real reason being the latter). I had some friends coming over to drink a couple glasses (bottles) of wine with me, so I just let the fan run while we enjoyed the patio weather (See, I told you. Patio > Allergies).

Ok, cut to two hours later. I clean everything up and head inside. Hmmmm, why do my countertops look so strange. I touch them. God, they feel gritty, gross! I would swear I just cleaned them. Then I'm struck with the horrifying realization of what that is all over my countertops. Pollen. Tons of yellow toxic dust is literally coating every inch of my house. It is everywhere. F**K me! The stupid attic fan sucked it in and distributed it over everything I own. Oh my god, my closet doors were open. My clothes. Oh god, I can't breathe. Too much pollen in the air. Why did I fire my maid!?

What am I going to do about this? I was exhausted so I decided it sleep on it (it, being a layer of pollen). I woke up this morning and (after I pried my pollenetically sealed eyes open) think I've come to the only rational decision. My maid is getting re-hired. Today.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

I'm a Professional Liar

I just got accosted on my way back from the Coke machine by a gaggle of screeching secretaties, who were WAY too excited about some purses they had found at the local thrift store (I'm being serious). Now, I've been in this office for over three years and I know better than to give my honest opinion on anything, unless I'm just really in the mood to get constant side-eyes for the next month. So I feign interest in their fugly purses, commenting on how cute (hideous) and practical (plain) they are. They seem pleased, although I detected a bit of suspicion from one of them. I've always had a hard time hiding disgust (which was especially troubling during rush) and I think the little one is on to me. This prompts me to mumble something about a deadline and hustle back to my office.

This really got me wondering about what is going on in those secretaries' heads. Best case scenario is that they buy all this ugly shit for the sole purpose of engaging me in ridiculous banter about it, knowing it makes me uncomfortable. The worst and most likely scenaio is that when you become a secretary you suddenly become completely devoid of any taste whatsoever (I'm talking fashion, not food...which would be obvious to anyone who has ever seen my secretary). That's a little sad. I wonder how many of these secretaries used to know the difference between tapered jeans and skinny jeans...

Note to self: never accept a secretarial position, no matter how dire the situation.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

I'm Definitely Losing my Battle Against Seasonal Allergies

I figured I should share this now in case I perish at some point today (which feels practically inevitable at this point). Anyway, I suffer from some pretty heinious seasonal allergies. Lucky for me, my allergies' "season" generally runs from about March 1st until the end of October, which I'm pretty sure means that I'm allergic to every single plant known to man (super). Now, generally my seasonal allergies are fully controlled by the double assault of Zyrtec D and Flonase, however this year my usual arsenal is proving no match for the massive yellow dust cloud engulfing the city.

My living hell is only precipitated by the fact that I love nothing more than to sit outside with a delicious bevy on a well positioned patio. I seriously know how drug addicts feel. It might be killing me, but I can't stay away from patios. Who cares that I wake up feeling like someone replaced by contact solution with siracha sauce, that I'm pretty sure I'm suffering from allergy-induced chronic fatigue syndrome, or that my body feels so sore and exhausted you'd think I fell down a flight of stairs or something (oh, yeah)? I need those patios and their proprietiers need me.

Besides, I can't avoid this pollen anyway. It is everywhere. Inside my house, my car, my office (ok, I don't know if that last one is true but it feels like it is), all over my dogs... So, like they say, if you can't beat them, join them. I think I'll spend tonight staining my new white pants yellow on a hyper-pollinated patio somewhere.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

Today Just Became the Worst Day of my Life

So, this morning did not start out particularly well for me. I decided to stay in Nashville with my fiancee last night (translation: I was too comatose after eating my weight in deviled eggs and potato salad to drag my ass off the couch and into the car last night), which meant that I had to be up at an ungodly hour this morning to drive the two hours home. To add insult to injury, I have the worst road rage on the planet (second only to my mom who literally becomes a psychopath the second she gets behind the wheel) and I swear that people were being especially terrible drivers this morning just to aggravate me (because the whole world revolves around me if you hadn't figured that out yet).

I finally get home (20 minutes behind schedule) and I have to hussle to get changed and get to the office. Of course, nothing I'm trying on will fit over my fat ass (thanks alot Easter feast), so I go for the fat pants and an oversized spring jacket. Nothing says skinny like pairing two pairs of oversized clothes together. To make matters worse, I have to wear open toed shoes because the pants are too short and I haven't had a pedicure in a month (and it shows).

I finally get to work and resolve to keep myself locked in my office all day...that's until I realize I forgot to go pick up my dog from where he was being boarded for the weekend. Perfect, just perfect. So I'm hussling back out of the office when one of my bosses gets on the elevator with me. Great. I make small talk with him for 20 floors (kill me) and thinking I can finally make a break for it, I head to the stairwell, since all my bosses are far too lazy and important to be bothered with stairs. Well, today is not my day because he proceeds to follow me to the stairwell down to the parking garage. At this point it's clear to him that I'm noticeably uncomfortable and trying to get out of the stairwell as quickly as possible, but in case he didn't get the picture, I went ahead and made it real obvious. By falling down the stairs. Yeah. I was in such a hurry to get away, that I forgot to use my feet. Whoops.

So let me paint this horrifying scene for you...I'm tumbling face first down a flight of stairs in fat clothes and my boss is watching the entire thing go down. I try and stop myself but it's no use, momentum has bested me once again as I tumble down the filthy stairs. I land at the bottom and try and get up as fast as possible, like maybe if I did that my boss would think I'd fallen on purpose (you know you do this too). Before I can even get to my knees, he's next to me trying to help me up and rather than say "thank you" I tell him "if you mention this to anyone, I will tell them you pushed me." Yes, I said that. To my boss.

Now, in my defense, the guy that I fell in front of is not just any of my asshole bosses, he is the king of the asshole bosses. He's only 8 years older than me, in his mid-thirties and still decent looking. However, he was clearly a tool in college and now spends his time making those of us less-toolish than him, look like idiots as often and as painfully as possible. I knew I would never hear the end of my fall unless I came up with something good. I was under pressure and he was walking behind me, so claiming I'd "been pushed" seemed like the natural response. Strangly, he doesn't seem phased. He clearly thinks I'm just a crazy bitch.

Anyway, no bruises thus far, aside from those to my ego. Updates to follow.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty

Step One is Admitting You Have a Problem...

Or in my case, problems. Namely, wine and shopping. I'm literally one click away from bankruptcy and one glass away from a rehab facility, but I'm not too worried about it (denial). The humiliation of personal insolvency can't be that bad, can it? Surely not. I mean, if I'm not embarassed by the fact that I usually arrive at the office smelling like hot trash (think Bourbon St. in July), then I'm pretty certian Chapter 7 isn't going to faze me. Besides, wine and shopping are my only two joys in life (rationalization). Honestly, the only reason I show up at work at all is to get money to support my shopping habit, and it's not like I could make it through the work day if I didn't have a delicious glass of wine waiting for me when I got home. I have a symbiotic relationship with wine and shopping. Take one out of the equation and God only knows what would happen (I would be thinner and I wouldn't cringe every time I got a CC statement).

I know I'm not alone on this one, but listen ladies, it's not our faults! I mean, addiction is a disease. Right? Right. On that note, I'm off to spend the rest of my day nursing my hangover and online shopping.

XOXO,

BlogMePretty