Tag Archives: i love you more

the dress

posted by:  audra

the other…week, i went to see a very dear friend at the vintage store at which she’s employed.  my first plan of action was to see her face; the second was to find something spectacular to wear for my annual day of worship–my birthday. 

right away i found the most perfect piece:  1940s (or whatever) baby-blue sheath dress, beaded all over, in really good condition.  capped sleeves, mid-calf length.  it had some ‘foo’ on it; some discoloration from years of wear, or a champagne toast gone awry.  the hem was a little frayed, but nothing a sharp pair of scissors wouldn’t fix.  the best part?  it was under twenty bucks.  believe it!  i was in love. 

i’m against trying garments on in stores.  i hate it.  i would rather deal with the hassle of returning or exchanging than to go into a tiny fitting room, smelling of moist armpits & vadge sweat, fucking up my hair, only to look into an unflattering mirror intensifying my cellulite under fluorescent lighting.  gross.  who wants to mess with that? 

so, i hold the dress up to my waist.  i’ve learned the fine art of holding things up to me, to see if they fit, without trying them on.  i’ve always been 100% accurate.  did you know that if you hold a dress (or whatever) up to your front, and can fit it halfway around you, then it will fit?   the waist of the blue baby fit perfectly.  i pulled it across my chest.  again, perfect. 

the dress makes it safely back to our home, where i try on my other treasures first.  everything’s good.  i step into the dress, and it hugs my hips in a non-hideous way, making me look thinner somehow.  the top fits as well.  the shoulder parts fall in just the right places. 

fuck.  the zipper won’t go up.

it won’t.  even.  move.

my back is FAT.  my back!  fat! 

i’m spilling over like a heavy-loaded fruit tree.

whatever.  stupid fucking vintage garments & their fucked up proportions! 

filthy tight, the dress is filthy.

but look at these fucking beads!

i went hunting in my closet for something else to wear.  remember that short, flared skirt i used to wear?  the black one?  kind of woolly?  yes, here it is.  i pull it on. 

i can’t get it fucking buttoned.  at ALL.   i don’t even want to think  of attempting to put on my favorite size 6  halter dress from several years ago.

but it’s feeling so damn tight tonight.

so, okay.  look.  i’ve been over this a gabillion times, but for god’s sake!  i truly believe that i will be forever self-sabotaging myself.  when we first moved in september, i took walks.  all the time.  sometimes two, three times a day.  i’d get up early.  i worked out.  jillian michels 30-day shred!  i was so sore the first week, i could barely move.  my weight was the lowest it’s been in 2 years.   my muffin-top was gone. 

then the weather got sort of crappy, & i started sleeping in.  i skipped working out, and sat looking for a job instead.  i drank a LOT of beer.  i may have had some cheese, too. 

is this common, the up-down weighty issues?  i’ve done it for as long as i can remember…and when i was at a weight close to 130lbs seven years ago with a shaved head, i didn’t think i’d ever gain weight again.  but i did, lost it, gained it back, about five times over.  so what if i fancy hot dogs, bacon & a pat of butter every now & then?  if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it seventy-seven times: i’m not an over-eater!  i’m an over-drinker.  maybe my food choices aren’t the best all the time.  and i’m lazy.  do you even know what kind of damage that combination can do to your chins?!

last year my goal was to lose a bunch of weight, get skinny & bleach my hair to look like debbie harry in the 70s.  do you know how many layers of black hair-dye i have on my head?!  too many to ever be that blonde.  perhaps i need something a little more realistic, like fitting into the dress?  or, at least my old, flared black skirt.  gross…is this me making the new years resolutions already?!

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Filed under Diary, fashion

ocd, a bad attitude & mid-year resolutions

posted by:  audra

in an attempt to start june off with a better attitude, i’ve made a little listy-loo for myself of things to accomplish this month.  as an added bonus, i’ll be including some of the stupider things i’ve done in recent memory…because we all love to hear about others’ failures.  sort of like a mid-year resolution list.  and anyway, we hate it when our friends become successful, right?  it’s true.  morrissey doesn’t lie!

what?  whatever.  okay, here we go:

*i will start working out.  even though it’s hot & i hate sweating, i am getting fat girl arms and it’s terrible.  i have also developed a built-in plate holder on my midsection.  gross.  i know i say it all the time, but things are getting out of control.

*i will not pull over on the side of a dusty gravel road out in the middle of nowhere & urinate on my kate spade flats.  again.

*i should stop smoking in the car.

*i will not order any more fruity, sugar-rimmed bitch drinks at the bar, just because they’re different from an extra-clean ketel martini.  i’ll stick with the big girl drinks.  thanks, but no thanks.

*next time i play pinochle with the parents, i’ll wear elbow pads to avoid any unsightly blistering.

*whilst cleaning out the car, i’ll remember that i wadded up two semi-sharp cheese knives in a zip-loc & stuck them in the glove box.  when i remember this, i’ll surely be able to not hastily grab the baggie, compact it down with my knee, & pierce a hole through my jeans & knee…then cutting the shit out of my fingertip.  also, note to self:  keep band-aids & bactine in the car.

*i’ll get drunk by myself more often & watch pretty in pink on repeat for several hours.  i haven’t done this in so long that i feel like i’m losing myself!

*i will not stop telling you all ‘i told you so’ when you fuck up.  because i’m right, you know i’m right, i’m always right, and knew i was right from the start.  i always look out for your best interests…and anyway, who loves you more than any of your other loser friends?!  me!  i do!  i love you!

*i’ll start being more honest about not liking slumdog millionaire.  i keep saying, ‘oh, it was good…not that great…i liked it alright.’  but i really didn’t like it!  it was annoying.  it seemed long.  it was a stupid love story.  it made me feel gross.  god, i need a rape-shower just thinking about it.

*i’ll keep making fun of our neighbor with the ocd tendencies:  flipping the patio light on & off a certain number of times, flicking the locks on her sliding glass door & window repeatedly before retiring to bed for the evening, talking to herself…it’s ridiculous.  shit drives me mad.  that bitch is crazy & desperately needs some meds.

*we will blog more often.  for realsies.  just like in the beginning…remember?

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