Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Acid Washed Apocalypse

I've posted before, many a time, about the evils of such articles of clothing as: the skinny jean, the high-waisted jean, shirts that might be dresses, and leggings. Well, guess what? I now own several of them. To be exact, two pairs of skinny jeans, and several shirts that could double as dresses, or maybe they're dresses that I wear as shirts - I still don't know. Sometimes when you can't beat 'em, you just have to join 'em. I even like the pair of high-waisted jeans that E. Lee bought recently (to be fair, she is a tiny, adorable person and thus one of the few people on the planet that doesn't look like a demented soccer mom wearing them). However, there is one thing that I'm pretty sure is a definite sign of the apocalypse, and it's name is acid-washed denim. The other day on the Metro I saw a girl, an otherwise normal looking girl, wearing a purse made out of acid-washed denim...with acid-washed denim fringe...with several of those regrettable butterfly clips pinned onto the straps. Holy fuck. It was 8:30 in the morning. I had a tinge of almost-hangover. It was distressing in the extreme. As I said to E., if that pox on fashion comes back into style, it will truly and completely break my spirit in the way that no pair of leggings, no romper even, ever could.

In fact, let me leave you with this link to the fug girls, whose reaction to an acid-washed denim romper (I KNOW!) about mirrors my own feelings on the subject. That is: "SHUT. UP."

Thursday, June 4, 2009

By Request

The lovely E. Lee says that I don't post enough, so y'all are getting another list. This one's for you darlin', just remember that I warned you there's nothing exciting going on in my life...

1. Two things I learned from a recent trip to the Salvation Army: (a) The AbDoer Extreme apparently doesn't work at all, judging from the fact that there were four old models for sale at one location. (b) There are approximately 20 million different titles in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. Actually, there are 200, but still. There is everything from Chicken Soup for the NASCAR Soul to Chicken Soup for the Tea Lover's Soul. I shit you not. Who knew that you could find that many treacly stories about little boys being improbably saved by kind-hearted packs of racoons, or whatever it is those stories are about? Honestly, no one needs that crap. What you need is a bottle of wine, a good friend, something ridiculously fattening, and/or some retail therapy. Or maybe a good lay.

2. Those Baby On Board stickers that people put on their cars make me stabby. Like, strong, visceral reaction stabby.

3. Sometimes, after a few glasses of wine, I get the urge to work out for the second time in one day. It's completely inexplicable. Usually people get the urge to dance badly, or go home with someone inappropriate - I get the urge to do fitness DVD's. Maybe it's a substitute for my previous urge to smoke too much? At least my tipsy exercising usually involves a strip aerobics DVD, but I'm pretty sure I'm still kind of a freak.

4. The other day on a trip to Pittsburgh an 18-wheeler ran me off the road. I sat there on the grass and freaked out for a minute, but mostly I just shook with fury. So M called the trucking company, but I didn't have the truck's ID number, given that I had been worried about dying and all. Solution? For the next 30 minutes I drove kind of maniacally until I caught up with him, at which point I actually crowed in triumph. Suck on that, douchebag. Plus, as a bonus I got to Pittsburgh about a half hour more quickly than usual.

5. My new favorite cocktail is spiced rum with Orangina or Diet Sunkist (which is my favorite soda). It tastes like Orange Julius, and is awesome. You should try it.

6. Sometimes I listen to really bad country music in the car. I'm ashamed, but the songs are so predictable I can usually sing along by the second verse, and it's calming. Besides, at least I know going in that the music is bad, instead of wasting my time flipping through all 30 or so of D.C.'s radio stations, all of which are equally bad, but not in the same satisfying way (except for NPR, but sometimes I can't listen to any more news about the economy or I may drive my car off of a bridge).

7. I had one more, but M is listening to music in the next room and it's completely distracting me. Clearly, whatever I had to say next wasn't all that important.

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