If I keep this up, I will absolutely forget that the only reason I am going to this thing is because they want me to sing, and they feed me bananas.
In case I have not mentioned this, the balls around here are huge. ENORMOUS.
Affairs.
(ba dum dum.)
My boss is the chair of one of these cojones, and thus, I have been wholly immersed in pre-carnival ball mania, Northshore style.
By which I mean, rather self-important and overblown, and not really one that "counts", but... who's counting.
This ball features a cast of a Queen and King, both of whom are wearing ermine-edged mantles, for Chrissakes. ERMINE. However, true to form, my boss, who is stunningly lovely, will outshine them in her red bedazzled gown. She can't help it. It's just impossible not to stare at her. She looks like a movie star. An effing size 2 movie star.
Anyway, me, I also have to be-gown for the b-all. Not owning an evening gown makes this problematic, and I expressed my concern, to which my boss said, no worries, you can try on all of our hand-me-downs, and if that doesn't work, I'll go buy you one.
My boss has offered to dress her little monkey.
Anyhoodle, one of the hand-me-downs fits like it was made for me, and I love it, and nobody really wants to claim ownership, so I might even be allowed to keep it (!), and... damn, y'all. I'm so fucking HOT.
Sorry, got distracted. I'm a little all-about-the-princess today, I think primarily because I completed a 5K track (yes, I did! no, I didn't run the whole way, but I DID run 2.4 miles - again - consecutively, before I stopped and walked. Ironically, when you stop after that kind of distance, your legs get confused-y and want you to go, so it's very much like a cartoon, where your top half is being still and your bottom half is still moving. ODD.)
Anyway, so I did that, and my hair is looking kinda kick-ass today, and I curled my eyelashes and stuff. I am fucking awesome.
I am tiny, adorable, and young.
(I might as well throw in "rich", too, since we aren't being terribly honest with ourselves).
It's a pretty good day.
Now excuse me while I go and figure out how to hot-glue-gun ermine...
Affairs.
(ba dum dum.)
My boss is the chair of one of these cojones, and thus, I have been wholly immersed in pre-carnival ball mania, Northshore style.
By which I mean, rather self-important and overblown, and not really one that "counts", but... who's counting.
This ball features a cast of a Queen and King, both of whom are wearing ermine-edged mantles, for Chrissakes. ERMINE. However, true to form, my boss, who is stunningly lovely, will outshine them in her red bedazzled gown. She can't help it. It's just impossible not to stare at her. She looks like a movie star. An effing size 2 movie star.
Anyway, me, I also have to be-gown for the b-all. Not owning an evening gown makes this problematic, and I expressed my concern, to which my boss said, no worries, you can try on all of our hand-me-downs, and if that doesn't work, I'll go buy you one.
My boss has offered to dress her little monkey.
Anyhoodle, one of the hand-me-downs fits like it was made for me, and I love it, and nobody really wants to claim ownership, so I might even be allowed to keep it (!), and... damn, y'all. I'm so fucking HOT.
Sorry, got distracted. I'm a little all-about-the-princess today, I think primarily because I completed a 5K track (yes, I did! no, I didn't run the whole way, but I DID run 2.4 miles - again - consecutively, before I stopped and walked. Ironically, when you stop after that kind of distance, your legs get confused-y and want you to go, so it's very much like a cartoon, where your top half is being still and your bottom half is still moving. ODD.)
Anyway, so I did that, and my hair is looking kinda kick-ass today, and I curled my eyelashes and stuff. I am fucking awesome.
I am tiny, adorable, and young.
(I might as well throw in "rich", too, since we aren't being terribly honest with ourselves).
It's a pretty good day.
Now excuse me while I go and figure out how to hot-glue-gun ermine...
Comments