Aug. 10th, 2007

Nothing like some hydrocodone and cuddling with 15 pounds of fluff to make you care somewhat less about the pain.

Watched last week's performance episode of So You Think You Can Dance, since it got taped over at my parents' house. And, maybe it's the painkillers talking, but Dominic and Lauren's pseudo-rumba made me temporarily all hot and bothered. (Well, okay - until Dominic shamelessly stole that kiss at the end. Then it just got embarassing. For him.)

Course, Mia's contemporary piece about her father - danced by Lacy and Neil - followed that, so that dampened the mood immediately.

Going to watch the former once more. For good measure.
So, thanks to the broken foot, I've had to dress shop for Ms. Murphy's wedding via the lovely internet. Now, anyone who knows me, knows that you can probably count on a single hand the number of times I've worn a dress in the last five years. Thus, shopping for a dress is not something I find terribly enjoyable or easy. Nothing ever seems to fit right. It's too long (because I'm short); if it fits my waist, then it's probably too tight around my chest; if it fits the latter, then there's a good chance it doesn't fit my waist; and so on. Mom's been kind enough to help me, since our plan of action has been to order a bunch of dresses so I can shop from my apartment. So far, I have these on their way, all in black:

Dress 1
Dress 2
Dress 3

We shall see. I suppose if my luck continues as it has been, then the second one would come in handy for hiding the ugly boot.

It's nice and sunny out. Wish I could go for a walk.



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