So this week consisted of work, sleep, stomach aches, excessive amounts of wine and breakfast at Cora's. Wednesday night consisted of festivities at the dome. We didn't wear our matching "dance troop" t-shirts. It felt more serious when I was dressed seriously. Emily and I did our excercise dances (which is hard to do in heels). Josh picked me up at 1 45 a.m. and we ate McDonald's and fell asleep. Nothing like stuffing your body full of grease and preservatives directly before lying down to let it rot in your torso for 8 hours. yum.
My Mom and I started working on my dress for the wedding. I have never been one for following written instructions and I am not strong in the dexterity department. I kept stabbing myself with the pins and my efforts at pining were sloppy and stressful. My mom did it all with ease and despite my attention to her seemingly effortless skills at dress making, my attempts to mimick hers were futile. I am just not good with those sorts of things. I would much rather make something from scratch than follow instructions.
I spent last WEdnesday on the floor. I tried to remedy an intense hangover by filling my head with the toxins thrown at me from A Baby Story, What Not to Wear, 10 Years Younger, and Second Chances. I pulled my bed out from my room and lay on the floor for hours. Of course, by the end I felt like an overweight, welfare, wench who should be getting pregnant. Then Erin got home and took advantage of me while I was vulnerable; we went out and bought a box of Fudgee-o's and stuffed our faces while watching more mindless trash.
Andrew is in Poland/London. Apparently he was there when all of those explosives and whatnot were going on. I had a mini anxiety because my brain somehow manages to convince myself that in a city of 8 million people, my brother (who is safe inside the airport) could have managed to get on a double decker bus and/or subway and gotten hurt. I hate being paranoid.
Now I have to go work for 6 hours. I will post pictures of my dress when it's finished.
love, sarah
My Mom and I started working on my dress for the wedding. I have never been one for following written instructions and I am not strong in the dexterity department. I kept stabbing myself with the pins and my efforts at pining were sloppy and stressful. My mom did it all with ease and despite my attention to her seemingly effortless skills at dress making, my attempts to mimick hers were futile. I am just not good with those sorts of things. I would much rather make something from scratch than follow instructions.
I spent last WEdnesday on the floor. I tried to remedy an intense hangover by filling my head with the toxins thrown at me from A Baby Story, What Not to Wear, 10 Years Younger, and Second Chances. I pulled my bed out from my room and lay on the floor for hours. Of course, by the end I felt like an overweight, welfare, wench who should be getting pregnant. Then Erin got home and took advantage of me while I was vulnerable; we went out and bought a box of Fudgee-o's and stuffed our faces while watching more mindless trash.
Andrew is in Poland/London. Apparently he was there when all of those explosives and whatnot were going on. I had a mini anxiety because my brain somehow manages to convince myself that in a city of 8 million people, my brother (who is safe inside the airport) could have managed to get on a double decker bus and/or subway and gotten hurt. I hate being paranoid.
Now I have to go work for 6 hours. I will post pictures of my dress when it's finished.
love, sarah
2 Comments:
At 9:28 PM,
Anonymous said…
good lord i love exercise dancing. and cut the pickle.
At 1:35 PM,
Saraiu01 said…
cut my cucumber
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