Friday, June 15, 2012

Skirting The Issue

No wonder I put it off for so long. Doing the florescent-lit pasty white skin, blubber belly, step-it-in wiggle jiggle dance into a not so Miracle Suit in front of a full-length mirror is too humiliating for anyone more than once in a decade. Recently, I even got invited to a girly, girly "does this make my butt look fat?" bathing suit shopping extravaganza. A witness in the dressing room! OMG. What was she thinking? I'm sure it was due to the pathetic stuck-in-the-80s turquoise blue flowered number I donned Sunday afternoon at a semi-public pool party that was just screaming "Please! Help Lisa now!" After throwing away all of the stretched out, faded, saggy suits one by one over the years, June hit and I was down to only one. One that shouldn't be let out of my own backyard. So today I sucked it all in and ventured out. Tempted to just get the pig roast luau-inspired ruffly floral moo-moo next to the rack of suits, never get in a pool again and call it a day, I forged ahead. After twenty attempts, the only one to make it out of the Spandex pile was one with a skirt. Yes, a skirt. That's how bad it is these days. To add to the humiliation, I think I'll stop coloring my hair to complete the whole grey-haired grandma in a skirted swim suit look.

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