Sunday, August 2, 2009

She just has a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth, bless her heart...

At 930 on Saturday night I found myself playing facebook Scrabble (which gives you all the joy of Scrabble with none of the boredom of waiting for the other person to go because, Hello!, you are on the damn internet. Look at lolcats or something.) when I noticed a friend, with whom I had had a rather lengthy discussion about how he was going out that night, was online. And apparently he too was playing facebook Scrabble.

Upon acknowledging that this choice of Saturday night activities was wholly lame, we decided to go out in an attempt to de-lamify the evening.

I am not now, nor have I ever, been known for my fashion sense. I mean, I can pull myself together presentably for work, but other than that if you were to catch me on an average day I would probably look something like this:

Let's review: Note the oversized t-shirt (with the best slogan ever- Tom's Ribs: Praise the Pig, Pass the Napkin) that I bought from the Salvation Army when I was in high school. Marvel that the jeans manage to stay together while having gaping holes in both the knees and around the back pockets. Wonder how the 4 year old converse that have long since worn through the canvas upper can still be strapped on. Also throw in that my hair (the whole metric shit-ton of it) is however is most convenient and there is no makeup to be found (and I assure you, this is not because I have flawless skin, it's because I'm lazy).

This "low maintenance" look has long been a huge peeve of Dahling's. The number of times she has told me I look like a hobo has long since exceeded counting.

This night, however, she would be pleased. Not only did I unearth a top that was both the correct size and feminine (an item I wasn't even sure I owned), but the excavation of my closet also yielded some wedge sandals, a hair tie with which to properly tame the hair-beast and (wonder of all wonders) eyeliner. So what did Dahling have to say when I encountered her at the bottom of the stairs?

"Where are you going all hooched up?"

In all fairness she did clarify that she meant it "in a good way".

...when I related this story to my friend after he picked me up he tried to give me 30 dollars to be his ho.

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