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Good News! I'm Still a Hot Mess
And a Fashionista
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Helloooooo! It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I really have no excuse other than…life.
I’d like to say I’ve been way too busy traveling the globe or herding goats or learning Urdu to write something on here. But the truth is, life is just kind of kicking me in the lady garden again these last few weeks.
My calendar is full of boring shit like doctor’s appointments for me and Adolpha and driving 2 hours (roundtrip) to bring Gomer the comforts of home because he’s been sick at college.
I don’t want to say it’s all been bad, though, because I am literally writing this from the balcony of my hotel room in San Diego. The Hubs, Adolpha, and I arrived here a few days ago and I’ve already been feeling some stuff:
It’s weird to travel as a family without Gomer.
But on the plus side, we could rent a smaller car and book a smaller room.
The weather is absolutely perfect and we’re not sure we want to leave. I find myself checking Zillow and the good news is, we could afford a 450 sq. ft. space approximately 25 miles from the beach. That seems fine. Right??
I’ve been too busy to write, because I’ve been…VACATIONING. Yeah. I didn’t bring a bag of books or schedule one damn thing to happen while I’m here. Yesterday we went surfing. Well, let me be clear: yesterday ADOLPHA went surfing. I stayed on the beach and watched.
I decided a long time ago, I am not designed for surfing. Something about the agility, flexibility, and athleticism that is required just doesn’t compute.
After a long day of shopping, eating, sightseeing, and eating a little bit more, we decided we needed some more downtime at the hotel pool.
I don’t know what happened, exactly, but in my excitement to get outside and sit in the sunshine, I somehow got my swimsuit on inside out
I was at the pool for well over an hour before I even noticed. I was adjusting a strap and I noticed it looked weird. It showed a seam. “Huh,” I thought. “I didn’t realize this swimsuit was so crappy that the seam is out like that.” And then I reached around to pick out a wedgie and a tag brushed my arm.
“What the hell?” I said, tugging on the tag. It was firmly attached to the seam that cut my ass in half.
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That’s when I took a closer look and realized my swimsuit was on inside out. I always pull out the pad inserts in the chest because that’s the last thing I need, so I could see the little slots where those go. (Swimsuit manufacturers, please stop adding more padding to the big girl suits. What we really need is a little more fabric for coverage in the boobage area, thanks.) And this particular swimsuit doesn’t have that tan crotch liner thing. It’s black like the suit. If was tan, I might have noticed right away and fixed the problem before there ever was a problem.
Now, you would think that a normal person would get up, throw on her coverup caftan, and head for the restroom for a quick flip, but not me. I was like, “Ugh. The restroom is so far away and no one cares about my swimsuit.”
Plus, it was wet. Ladies, you know how hard it is to wriggle INTO a wet one-piece swimsuit! It’s like trying to put toothpaste back into the tube. It’s like trying to stick anything into any other thing without lube. No one has the time, nor the strength for that kind of job. Plus, I buy cheap swimsuits from Amazon and I was concerned I might cause an even bigger embarrassment. I’m stronger than I let on, and I could just see me tugging a bit too hard one time and the whole suit giving up. I decided inside out was better than the whole ass of my swimsuit flapping in the wind.
Like any good internet dweller, I asked Facebook what I should do, and the response I liked the best was, “Realize you get a whole other day out of the same swimsuit because you can turn it right side out and wear it again tomorrow.” I like how you think, Lindsey!
Today, I’m off to the world-famous San Diego Zoo. Let’s hope I don’t get eaten by a bear or get in a fistfight with a kangaroo, or something like that.
Talk to you later!