God Will Punish You
I wore the black-and-white dress to work today, complete with pink grosgrain ribbon belt, pink 3/4 sleeve sweater-thing, and black kitten heels. And, seriously, every single person I’ve spoken to has complimented the dress, from friends to coworkers to complete strangers, including two male coworkers who’ve never said one word about clothing in my presence ever.
So of course I got all cocky, spending at least an hour (not all at once, but a combined total of an hour) fluffing the skirt at my desk, or fiddling with the ribbon bow, or checking out my boobs in the dress, thinking about how awesome this dress is, and how although most clothes that are popular right now are totally not compatible with my body type, these structured cotton-blend 50s style sundresses seem to be designed specifically for my curves, and how if I were to die an early death, I’d like someone to say, “Well hey, at least she had some kickass dresses.”
I was thinking something along those lines while washing my hands in the bathroom a while ago, and then I looked down to rinse and saw the Spaghettio stain on my boob.
FUCK.
I immediately began to dab at it with my soapy hands, which did nothing but fade the Spaghettio intensity until the spot began to look less like tomato sauce and more like poop.
The poopish spot is tiny and probably barely noticeable to the casual observer, especially since the dress is a print. And the pink 3/4 sleeve sweater-thing, when pulled just so, covers it nicely. But my knowledge of the poopish spot is seriously fucking with my awesome dress mojo right about now, and I’m hoping that a little dab of Oxy-Clean will take it out when I get home.
that’s what you get for being cocky!!!!
your boobs are hot in that dress though
Shoulda worn a bib. Were you eating laying down like i do?
You just sent Mike into a fit; have you no heart, woman?
pink grosgrain ribbon, kitten heels, fluffing the skirt, boobs in the mirror, soapy hands, stained dress, pink sweater pulled just so over your bosom – sheesh!
always with the talking and the not posting of pictures.
I AM FREAKING OUT ABOUT MOVING.
Though the dress on the outside is temporarily spotted, it’s nice to know that the woman inside did not suffer.
You have a vast untapped reservoir that is not predicated upon your choice of garments, though it can be difficult to put aside such cultural icons when young and single.
You have a greatness inside that is yearning to be expressed; don’t fret about life’s little annoyances.
Will, her fretting about life’s little annoyances is what people come here for… if she was free from it all, I’m sure she’d simply write a book and spread the truth coast to coast.
My inner child is calling your inner child out: who doesn’t fret or become too glad about the little, the bothersome, the superficial?
On the other hand, Lorie, I’m yearning to investigate your store of greatness inside: how about The Wagon Wheel, about 8pm?
Well, I empathize. Not with the Spaghettios, mind you, but with the stain. How often have I taught with lunch on my shirt, knowing my students are focusing in on it with laser eyes…
ooo i hate when that happens!
oxy clean does miracles tho.