Hi Reader! I'm going on vacation. Yes, I just told the Internets I'm going on vacation, except I didn't say when, or for how long. However, I will say that Chez Bang Bang will not be vacant, as I used the old "family" ploy to guilt family into living in my house while I'm gone to take care of cats from both ends - the feeding and the pooping.
I did a little bit of shopping for some vacation clothes. Also known as, "well, it's been a really cold and dark winter so far and I've gained about five months worth of pregnant weight" - only I'm not pregnant.
And I really need to get reacquainted with my razor. Because sheesh, things are a mess below the belt. By which I mean the back of my legs, Reader, get your mind outta my vagina area. That place is fine. Fine enough. Well, in the dark at least. No one who sees it will judge it harshly. At least not to my face.
However, while shopping for some new clothes I thought it might be a good time to venture into Leggings Territory, because the appeal of no zippers and buttons is, well, appealing. See paragraph two above.
I was attracted to the thought of what feels like sweat pants on, but is perfectly acceptable as dinner attire, with a long enough shirt.
Nay nay, Reader.
I pulled them on, looked at myself in the mirror and recited my Serenity Prayer as I put them back on the hanger to return to the clothes-checker-inner-girl at the desk.
It went a little something like this:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the thighs I cannot change in time for my trip
The courage to wear shorts on vacation anyway
And the wisdom to know leggings should never be part of my wardrobe.
So yeah. I've made my peace with it.