Sunday, May 17, 2009

I was cleaning up some of the drafts I never published/finished on this blog.

On 4/17 I wrote an entry that started with "Last night I was struck full in the face but" and then there's nothing.

I have no idea what I was talking about.
Dear men in my neighborhood,

I'm wearing pants. Stop looking at me like I'm not wearing pants. These are cropped leggings and they happen to fall under the Active Wear category on the Old Navy website. That means I can wear them when I go downstairs to pretend-to-buy-a-water-bottle-but-really-just-get-the-guy-behind-the-counter-to-give-me-quarters-for-laundry.

Just because I'm wearing pants-that-don't-look-like-pants doesn't mean I'm failing in other aspects of my life. You don't know that I slept until 11am and then took a nap at 2pm. You don't know that it took me forever to put on these basically-pants in the first place. You don't know that there's a soggy bowl of cereal on my dresser that I won't take to the sink because the Life squares have started to form some sort of terrifying configuration and I just don't want to deal with it. You don't know that I spent my day crying at the TV or that I took a shower and then put this same outfit back on because I like it.

What you should notice is that I've started a new haircare regimen and my curls look spectacular. You should also notice the beginning of my new spring/summer tradition of getting regular manicures. Also observe my choice of bright red nail polish which subtly suggests that I might be a bad-girl in a classy, World War II kind of way. Get with it.