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Salsa Dancing Midget

I am going to a big New Year�s Eve event on Saturday night which requires me to not look like crap. I am sporting about 7 extra pounds right about now, so the idea of squeezing into something fabulous isn�t all that appealing. Even worse, I had planned to wear one of those bridesmaid dresses your friend tells you that you can wear over and over again (haven�t worn it since the wedding two years ago), but I mentioned this to another friend, and she said that she had loaned her copy of that same dress to her sister who would also be going to the party. I wanted to pull rank and say that an actual bridesmaid should get first dibs as to whether or not to wear the dress to the party, but my friend�s sister is of limited means what with her own wedding just around the corner, so I shut up and went back to my trunk of once worn bridesmaid dresses. I stared at a navy blue satin skirt that I had worn to another friend�s wedding, but instantly began developing hives. That damn skirt was too tight four years ago when she got married. I wasn�t even going to mess with my fragile self esteem by trying to squeeze into that bastard. The other dress was super light blue � way too wedding. Everything else in my closet was not dressy enough, and my little black dress is too casual, even with a string of something sparkly around my neck. Fuck.

So last night I went to the mall. Shoot me now. Actually, you should have shot me about 16 hours ago. I walked through major department store #1, and turned my nose up at all the dresses. Most were either too old lady or too street walker. I pushed my way through the strollers and teenagers to the next department store. I must say, this store had quite the collection, but somehow, the endless racks of marked down dresses made me feel a little queasy. I was about to throw in the towel when I spied a cute red dress. It happened to be the only non-marked down dress in the whole joint, and at $330, there was basically no fucking way. Feeling dejected, I was about to leave the store when I spied a black dress hanging on the same rack. It was a Michael Kors dress, and a little pink sticker peeked out from behind the neckline. Sale! Whee! Amazingly, the dress was my size. Woooo!!! It was also marked down from about $250 to $37.25. Zowie!!!! Ladies and gentlemen, that is an 85% discount. Sweet! I took that dress (and the red one) back to the dressing room which oddly smelled like a swimming pool locker room. Icky.

I tried on the red one first, and it looked appropriately fabulous. I shuddered a bit. Next, I pulled on the Michael Kors dress. It was black, and I had been trying to avoid buying a black dress. I figured the cut would be awful, or that I would see my underwear through a giant tear in the seam when I turned to look at the back. Instead, I was surprised to find that the dress fit! It is a halter style dress, so I will need to move the little hooks around the neck, but other than that, it�ll do the trick! Would it be my first choice of a dress to wear to this party? No, but hell, it was $37.25. The bra I had to buy to wear with the dress cost more than that. Speaking of the bra, those ladies in the Victoria Secret store are selling pure lies. The bra I purchased there weighs at least 4 lbs. I am not kidding! When I first tried it on, it gave my cleavage cleavage! This thing has been engineered to the hilt! Normally, I wouldn�t buy a bra that could double as a boob job, however, I have to admit, they have got hiding straps while enhancing the bust line down to a science. Plus I was getting sick of the mall. Ew.

On my way out of the mall, I snagged a pair of earrings (at just under 2/3rds the cost of the dress) and a huge complex about my lack of style and grooming thanks to all of the overdone teenagers in the mall. All in all, I spent almost exactly $100 for this event. A bargain, if you ask me.

Back at home, I tried on the whole ensemble, and while I might look a bit like a midget salsa dancer with ginormous boobs, I�m fine with that. I will do anything to avoid going back to the mall. The only thing left to do is to check a couple of storage bins to see if I saved a pair of uncomfortable spiky black heels from one of those bridesmaid gigs. Oh, and then I have to figure out whether or not to wear hose with open toed shoes. Personally, I hate that, but at the same time, tis the season to cover the legs. Last, but certainly not least, I need to rid myself of the giant zit that has taken up residence square between my eyes. Rat bastard zit. I hate you.

9:38 a.m. - December 29, 2005

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