this just means that you’re getting old.

The best time to go bathing suit shopping is today. Smack in the middle of fat season, directly after a handful of Girl Scout cookies, huge bowl of Pho, and a giant Cafe Sua Da, freezing cold outside, ass and thighs as white and dimply as they will get all year, unshaven, PMS in full rage.

Seriously, check your Farmer’s Almanac. Today is the day.

I got a really cute one-piece at Macy’s but I’m a bit miffed because I can’t find it online. I could probably use a size smaller, and was going to order one online and keep the one that fits best. No luck. Which means that it is probably from last year and it was probably marked half-off a few months ago but now it’s back up to full price.

Macy’s has awesome three-fold mirrors that are tons of fun because you can see if you have that roll that hangs over the bra strap and see what your butt looks like bent over vs. standing up (for me bent over looks much, much better. I swear that going from a standing 180 degrees down to 90 degrees takes like ten years off my assage) and look out for cancery moles or ripe pimples on your back and check if your neck needs shaved and see whether the fact you have on two different earring backs is noticeable to the public. In doing all this, I caught a glimpse of something shiny and sparkley and gorgeous and shimmery on the top of my head. Thinking it was a piece of spandexy thread from one of the suits, I pulled. And it hurt.

My first grey hair! I’ve noticed that my hair is getting coarser over the last year or so, and like the moustaches I didn’t know what to blame, age or baby. I guess I’m just getting old, finally catching up to my birthday. I love it. Now maybe people will take me seriously.

Maybe.

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