"I'm gonna dress you up in my [self] love..."

And speaking of party dresses...

Whenever you put on a piece of clothing, look in the mirror, and think, "Is that MY body? GodDAMN, I want to have sex with myself!", you need that garment in your life.

Perfect mindset for tonight's family party, no? (Hush, there'll be other people there.)

Note to self...

Via Reductress: Party Dresses That Say, ‘It’s My Birthday And Someone Has To Fuck Me’

My kid would be such an asshole...

Emailing a pregnant friend:

"You have that Babies 'R' Us Frequent Breeder card or whatever it is, right? That card that gives you fetus points?"

(Again, why I'm not allowed to have kids.)

This particular cycle just got a little less vicious.

My mother, re: a woman on TV: 
"She shouldn't even be wearing that dress, because look at it around her chest, it's pulling."

Moments later:
"I would never buy that because it has horizontal stripes."
"Some people like that, Mom."
"Pfft. Skinny people..."

This is where I came from, you guys. I swear it's a fucking miracle I can even leave my house.

Thankfully I have better influences now, though, because even in tight-around-my-chest horizontal stripes, my pudgy ass is adorable.

Word to ya Moms

I debated being a jackass and posting that I'll be spending Mother's Day making it rain disposable, childless income on fancy brunch cocktails and new Lush products. And, don't get me wrong, that IS what I'm doing today.

But also: Serious, non-snarky props to all my mom friends. I hate most children because I hate most people, but your kids are the best because YOU'RE the best. So thanks for raising a new generation of non-assholes. 'Cause we all know if *I* were the one endeavoring to "teach them well and let them lead the way," my kid would be a complete dick -- he'd be late for school every day and have unexplained Cheetos in his unwashed hair. 

So, as for us fruitless non-multipliers... Y'all wanna go get hammered at noon and then go buy some motherfuckin' high-end soaps? 

WE RIDE!

I don't see how I'm NOT supposed to buy this book.

I'm not supposed to be buying any more books, because there are at least 30 on my "to-read" shelf -- books I have PAID for that are just sitting there, as untouched as my vagina.

But, I mean, I think if my instinct based on a first page is to buy copies for myself AND every woman I know, I should get a pass, no?

Rhetorical question -- I already ordered it. Don't judge me. You're not my mom.
 

My reading list seems fun.

I just remembered my parents gave me an Amazon gift card for Christmas, so I'm sure they'd be thrilled to know I'm using it to buy a copy of The Bell Jar.

Also ordered The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a Fuck, which, oddly, will likely instruct me to spend less time with my parents. ("Keep only the things that spark joy" was the original premise, so...)

Judge not, lest ye be an asshole

One of my OkCupid photos was taken in a pin-up-inspired boutique I went to with friends. I tried on a dress that fit better than any glove, accentuated all my best bits, and looked STUPID-good. But I couldn't rationalize spending $130 on it, so I asked my friends take a photo. 

I added the pic to OKC, captioned: "Taken in a fitting room. I didn't buy the dress. Because I am an idiot." 

Today I get a first OKC message from a guy saying, "Yes you should have bought that dress..." That's the whole message. 

I go to his profile, because he's attractive enough, and his FIRST sentence is, "Only thing that seems to matter is how one looks on here." 

Oh, OK, so you're saying you don't like being judged only on appearance? So despite my completely-filled-in profile with many non-appearance-related conversation starters, you went with...commenting only on my appearance?

You do that math, dearie. I'll wait...

And dammit, I SHOULD have bought that dress. I can't even believe that's my body -- I am cute as fuck.

P.S. He sent a followup message 20 minutes later, saying, "That was a compliment. .. you're gorgeous. ... "

Um, I KNOW it was a compliment, or at least I know that's what you were going for. Do you think I'm too pretty to know how words work? Do I owe you a "thank you?" Go fuck yourself with your ellipses, and why the SHIT are you ALSO using periods? That's not how any of this works! 

*pant* *pant* *pant*

...Ahem. What mood swing?

Happy Valentine's Day from some Victoria's Secret cult bunker...

Um...you guys? Is anyone else scared?  

I went to the site to replace some basic lingerie I don't have to think about when I get dressed for work, stuff I can just put on and know for sure there'll be no lace, seams, or wonky padding disrupting my ensemble. (And, admittedly, MAYBE some special-interest items for down the line...)

But I don't think I can spend money there now. That's troubling. 

I'm not just being an asshole -- this photo LEGIT looks like that woman did not sign up for this.

Sorry, Folgers: Happy lady parts are a far better part of waking up.

Via HelloGiggles: This alarm clock wakes you up with an orgasm.

In the immortal words of Elle Woods, "Excuse me. I have some shopping to do."

And in the words of the friend who sent this to me, "I don't see how it would prevent me from falling back asleep."

Truth. Orgasms are how I GET to sleep half the time.

Still, we agree we should try it for research. For SCIENCE. FOR THE SISTERHOOD.
 

Floral Sex

A horrible ad has been popping up on my Pandora Radio lately, telling me, "This Valentine's Day, give your man a not-so-subtle hint: Tell him to order flowers from Such-and-Such Place."

Tell...TELL HIM?!

Wow, what a spontaneous and romantic gesture that'll be for me. Should I go select the exact bouquet I want and just send him a link, or does he at least get THAT much credit? Because OMG, men are SO clueless, amirite, ladies?!

I once had an ex tell me I "hint with a hammer," because I usually just say what I want, but I've never pulled THAT shit.

Jesus Christ, if Valentine's Day is that important to you, your Person should know to get your fucking flowers.

I like Valentine's Day. When in a relationship, I personally like to spend it at home with a movie, pizza, and nudity, because I've generally felt loved every day in my relationships and don't feel the need to make it such a Thing. (I am also cheap and lazy.) But still, I like love and celebrations thereof. I like flowers and hearts and pink crap and on-sale candy the next day.

But I hate the implication that all women are whoreticulturists and all men are inept.

...It's possible I have too many feelings about this.

Weight Loss, Crypt Keeper, Trainwreck, Lipstick, and "La-di-da"

A while back I asked y'all to come kick me if I didn't lose some weight, because my clothes didn't fit anymore and I hate shopping.

Turns out all I needed was a (prescription) drug that fucks up my appetite and makes me so thirsty I drink tons of water and always feel full, plus family, friend, and boy issues. I'm running on bananas, almonds, and kettle chips because that's all my body is accepting.

I feel like hell, I get wobbly, and my face looks like The Crypt Keeper, but I lost 5 lbs in one spectacular shitshow of a week.

I spent most of the past 2 days in bed (took a sick day yesterday), but eventually getting up, cleaning my house, then cleaning ME. It's remarkable how an irresponsibly hot shower and clean sheets can improve your outlook. (Plus watching "Trainwreck" again.)

I am going to be fine.

We're good, now, right, Brain? My family is still fucked, but you'll let me pine for just the ONE guy (the one who's actually worth even a passing thought)? And my friends are OK? And we'll be more mindful of eating at least enough that standing isn't so challenging and daylight doesn't hurt our eyes?

Right, then. Onward. Lipstick. Sushi. Power song!

I'd never pay that much for an orgasm

One of my other goals this year is "Get my money right," because I'm SUPER tired of being broke, so I'm trying to trim expenses where I can.

I'm on the Sephora site getting my face wash (which is pricey, but pleases me daily, and lasts forever, and gets supplemented with cheaper products, and it is my FACE, and I'm aging fairly well, so don't judge me, whippersnappers)...*deep breath* Ahem.

So I was also going to buy my blush, because it's running out, too.
Um, yeah, NARS Orgasm blush is 30 goddamn dollars. Nooope. I could swear last time I bought it, it was $22 -- still not cheap, but not $30.

Christ, I'll just give myself an actual orgasm every day before work. Or, you know...I could go get some $3 blush at Target. Whichever...

P.S. With my purchase, I got a bunch of fancy samples, so now I also have new moisturizer and lipstick, so I don't have to buy those, so really, this purchase is a budget win. [/rationalization]

Victoria's Secret is that she's always cold.

As if we needed more proof of what a classy lady I am, I pulled my bra strap away from my back because it was itching, and ended up putting my finger through the fabric.

I mean, it's like you can't rely on a 5-year-old bra anymore. What CAN I believe in, Universe?

Right, then. Shopping. 

Also, this is totally how I roll when I wear flannel pajamas. Victoria's Secret gets me.

Selly Celly

I almost never say "mansplaining," but I absolutely just had it happen to me, via a Facebook friend I rarely talk to. (Come to think of it, I don't know why we're Facebook friends. I will remedy that.)

 

I mentioned I was going to a cell phone store, NOT requesting help in any way. But he climbed straight up my ass: "What do you need? Oh, a new phone? What kind? Have you been with them long? You might be better off calling to find out what they'll offer you for customer retention. You should wait to see what they're offering for Black Friday. And other stores might have better deals. Be careful with the plans they offer you. Check if it's an authorized retailer or a franchise store, that might affect what they can give you." 

 

*looking around* Um...I AM literate, right? To read makes my speaking English good? I've had a cell phone for 15 years. I think I got this. Also, I am a grown woman who's worked in retail and shopped for things allllll by myself for a good portion of my life. I know sales BS when I hear it, and I CAN do math (if given enough time and a pencil and paper). Under the T&A, I promise there's a fairly functional adult. True story: they let me drive a car and everything. I am going to a store to get information. If the information pleases me, I will make a purchase. That is how shopping works. 

 

Sidebar: my current phone is possessed such that I don't care about Black Friday. I will spend money to guarantee I'm NOT phantom dialing obscure contacts without touching the phone. (Thankfully I deleted all my ill-advised "dates" from the phone, so it can't call anyone dangerous, but it's still not optimal.)

Facebook is mocking me.

For whatever reason, this GORGEOUS non-Melissa-McCarthy dress came up in the results earlier when I was looking for the Melissa McCarthy clothes at Nordstrom, and now Facebook is mocking me with it via a "sponsored post."  

I can TOTALLY wear that to Christmas dinner, right? My family wears sweatpants to weddings, so this is perfect, no?

See also: Fuck you, Facebook, I don't have $150.

Rebel Wilson's "relevant and dope" new fashion line

Via Cosmopolitan: Rebel Wilson's New Fashion Line Is Here — and It's Amazing

I actually don't get the appeal of Rebel Wilson as an actor. I don't think she's as funny as everyone else seems to think she is.

BUT.

This line really is cute. I felt bad that I didn't like a lot of the stuff Melissa McCarthy made, and it was SO cost-prohibitive. (You know you're fucked when something's at Nordstrom.) But Torrid? I might be able to hang with Torrid. And OMG, the model is the CUTEST.

Full disclosure: Depending on the week, I am one or two sizes away from "plus size," and don't believe it should be a thing. Clothes should just come in sizes. But I love seeing more options being made available, especially cute, affordable ones with adorable models.

Dressing for (Begrudging, Sexless) Success

Two friends took me shopping the other day because I am SHIT at dressing myself, and they advised me to (ie, made me) try on this dress.

"I look like I'm wearing an Amish person's pillowcase!"
"You look amazing, shut up. You're buying this dress, deal with it."

I wore it to work today and have been complimented multiple times -- all by women. Even if logic says it's POSSIBLE every straight dude in this building wants to bend me over their desk and plant their dicks under the dress like you'd plant a flag on a newly discovered planet, but can't say so because it's a workplace, I maintain that it's because I look square and sexless.

But it's basically a giant t-shirt, so whatever. It's better than wearing pants. And I definitely have...let's say "a lot more invested in the dress" than the model.

My inner goddess is still super awkward.

I just registered for an Intro to Burlesque dance class, because clearly I don't feel awkward ENOUGH on the daily, I have to pay to be reminded I lack sex appeal. 

Selecting the proper workout ensemble has never quite felt this important. I wonder what the odds are I could configure a bra under here. (Yeah, I know -- slim to none.)

#JustSayYes  

My inner goddess is still super awkward.

I just registered for an Intro to Burlesque dance class, because clearly I don't feel awkward ENOUGH on the daily, I have to pay to be reminded I lack sex appeal. 

Selecting the proper workout ensemble has never quite felt this important. I wonder what the odds are I could configure a bra under here. (Yeah, I know -- slim to none.)

#JustSayYes