On Thursday the 17th a plane from Perth, AU, a plane from Austin, TX and a plane from Spokane, WA will make their way to Vegas carrying three blondes (I’m the only natural) and more clothes than a drag queen could wear over the course of a busy month. That’s right folks, my twin and our triplet from another mother will be holding court in Vegas for four whole days. I’m ready to hold back some hair , preach the gospel and talk my way into VIP parties (people can never find me on the list because Melissa is such and exotic name.)
So remember my attempt at running last week? I have been in so much pain the last few days I cannot even tell you! Through my research on Web MD it appears that my body is in such an atrophied state from lack of physical activity that even the slightest amount of exertion leaves me feeling like doodoo. Or I have a tape worm. It’s hard to say! But enough about my hypochondria/imminent tape worm death let’s talk about my most recent self diagnosed health issue, oniomania, or compulsive buying disorder. Also known as me sobbing over my last Visa statement.
I’ve been hitting the pavement hard this week searching for more black, grey, white and denim. If you’re holding out for a post with colors, patterns or anything shiny this blog is not for you. Also, sequins are not for day they are for Atlantic City. Sorry. I’m sick of seeing your shiny ass out on streets. Your parents don’t love you. I may have taken this too far. But seriously you look like a disco ball. This is not the remake of Saturday Night Fever, it’s an Applebee’s. Okay, now I’m done.
They say you do what you know and I know how to sneak food and drinks into anything, anywhere! (I blame my mom who used stick those microwave popcorn bags in her purse when we went to the movies. Way to set a good example Janie!) In school I was the sensei. No matter how strict the teacher, no matter how prominently the “No Food Or Drinks” signs were displayed, I’d down a Ziplock bag of Cheeze-Its before the pledge with nary a chew to be seen. I was like a snacking ventriloquist, like a snantriloquist!
While I’m proud of all the places I’ve snuck (I don’t care if “snuck” is not a word because “sneaked” sounds stupid) food and drinks into there is one case in particular that sticks out in my mind. There was the time I brought an entire bottle of wine into Mama Mia. Let me help you visualize this. Me (gross!) belting out “Dancing Queen” between Dixie cups of Cab Franc with a singing voice somewhere between Roseanne Barr and the Janis character from friends.
It was fourth grade, I had just gotten a very chic bob and I was wearing a yellow jumpsuit dotted with purple and pink daisies. Hawt!!! I remember going to school thinking I was literally wearing the coolest outfit of all time. There’s just something about wearing a shirt connected to pants that makes me feel super sexy! (I imagine guys hate this look about as much as peplums and leggings.)
Finding the right jumpsuit is no small feat. As easy as J Lo makes it look most ladies will have to try on about 48 different styles before finding one that doesn’t make you look pregnant, 20 pounds overweight or like a giant baby wearing a onesie. Lucky for you ladies I’ve done the leg work and found what I believe is the unicorn of jumpsuits at my beloved Kohls (yet another juniors section find!)
I lept from bed today at the crack of 9:30am, blared 90’s rap (still not lovin police!) and tore a belt loop off my jeans trying to pull them up. Nothing like starting your day with a little self loathing because you spent the weekend inhaling barbecue chicken wings like some ravenous pelican.
After a summer chock-full of Rosé and Champs I’ve finally rediscovered my love for the hard stuff, bold reds. That’s right kids, don’t let my angelic face and fine spun stories fool you, I’m a cigar loving, Sriracha dousing, Cab chugging broad with a mouth that would make a sailor blush. And I expect to be treated like a lady dammit!