It happened again.
I travelled to my college town of Lincoln, Nebraska
and accidentally ran into an old bygone of mine.
I had no intentions of seeing her. I was just going to stay at the lovely Rasby wedding and enjoy
myself there.
But I'll be damned if after two beers and two glasses of wine she found me.
She came sneaking up, whispered a bunch of bad ideas into my head and then drug me downtown.
And as usual, she made an ass out of both of us.
And by "she" I mean nineteen-year-old me. She finds me every time I go to Lincoln.
And I don't know what it is about that town,
if it's the scent of urine and damp toilet paper in the Rail bathroom,
or the sorority graffiti written on the walls at the Bar,
but something always gets me all hyped on college fever when I'm there
and I suddenly feel as if the world is my shot glass.
Of course it didn't help that I was out with an old partner in crime.
We'll call her Roy again.
Roy would be the one I've mentioned before who tends to walk around a party
in just her unders by the end of the night (if it's been a good party.)
She also once had to call the fire department because she got her arm stuck so badly in a couch.
But that wasn't nearly as scary as the time she almost drove across a frozen lake
when taking a short cut through a backyard.
So yeah, when I run into hurricane Roy, things tend to get a little messy.
Which brings me to my next point.
The three weekend dress.
So I saw this dress last week in a boutique by my house.
I don't usually shop at this store because it's slightly over my price range.
But there was this one dress that just kept staring at me.
I literally walked by it five times and couldn't stop thinking about it.
I finally tried it on.
And much to my dismay, it fit like a gem.
So I had to buy it.
And I justified the purchase to myself by saying that I would do something I've never done before-
I was going to wear this dress three weekends in a row to make sure I got its money worth.
Because yes, I've got three weddings in a row this month.
I know it's fashion taboo, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Exhibit A- the dress at the beginning of the night.
Like my necklace? I did too.
So if you find it in Lincoln, I'd love it back.
It might be on the dance floor at the Rail. Or near the bar at The Bar.
Or perhaps near the hotdog vendor on the street corner.
Or in a booth at the Downtown.
Very last place would be Amigos... Could have been in any one of our 357 Crisp Meat wrappers.
Exhibit B- dress still in tact. Necklace is gone...
But dooey eyed creepy face is in full force.
Thus the reason I felt a monkey image was a better option.
And by exhibit C- you can see the night had taken a turn for the worse.
The bar is closed.
And yet Hurricane Roy and I remain sitting outside of it.
The shoes are off.
The dress is ripped.
And it's about eight minutes away from having salsa and cheese
and grease and meat and beans
speckled all over it as if I danced in a sprinkler of Amigo's Mexican goodness.
The three weekend dress is resting at the dry cleaners right now.
I hope I can revive it so it can be worn at Wedding #2 this weekend in Vermont.
But it's not looking good.
When I brought the dress in this morning at 7:00 a.m.,
the sweet old lady working at the counter took one look at it and asked,
"you leave this outside?"
Yes, yes I did. And unfortunately a hurricane ran through.
and since this is probably as close as I'll ever get to a "fashion post"
I'm linking up with Erin today!
I travelled to my college town of Lincoln, Nebraska
and accidentally ran into an old bygone of mine.
I had no intentions of seeing her. I was just going to stay at the lovely Rasby wedding and enjoy
myself there.
But I'll be damned if after two beers and two glasses of wine she found me.
She came sneaking up, whispered a bunch of bad ideas into my head and then drug me downtown.
And as usual, she made an ass out of both of us.
And by "she" I mean nineteen-year-old me. She finds me every time I go to Lincoln.
And I don't know what it is about that town,
if it's the scent of urine and damp toilet paper in the Rail bathroom,
or the sorority graffiti written on the walls at the Bar,
but something always gets me all hyped on college fever when I'm there
and I suddenly feel as if the world is my shot glass.
Of course it didn't help that I was out with an old partner in crime.
We'll call her Roy again.
Roy would be the one I've mentioned before who tends to walk around a party
in just her unders by the end of the night (if it's been a good party.)
She also once had to call the fire department because she got her arm stuck so badly in a couch.
But that wasn't nearly as scary as the time she almost drove across a frozen lake
when taking a short cut through a backyard.
So yeah, when I run into hurricane Roy, things tend to get a little messy.
Which brings me to my next point.
The three weekend dress.
So I saw this dress last week in a boutique by my house.
I don't usually shop at this store because it's slightly over my price range.
But there was this one dress that just kept staring at me.
I literally walked by it five times and couldn't stop thinking about it.
I finally tried it on.
And much to my dismay, it fit like a gem.
So I had to buy it.
And I justified the purchase to myself by saying that I would do something I've never done before-
I was going to wear this dress three weekends in a row to make sure I got its money worth.
Because yes, I've got three weddings in a row this month.
I know it's fashion taboo, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Exhibit A- the dress at the beginning of the night.
Like my necklace? I did too.
So if you find it in Lincoln, I'd love it back.
It might be on the dance floor at the Rail. Or near the bar at The Bar.
Or perhaps near the hotdog vendor on the street corner.
Or in a booth at the Downtown.
Very last place would be Amigos... Could have been in any one of our 357 Crisp Meat wrappers.
Exhibit B- dress still in tact. Necklace is gone...
But dooey eyed creepy face is in full force.
Thus the reason I felt a monkey image was a better option.
The bar is closed.
And yet Hurricane Roy and I remain sitting outside of it.
The dress is ripped.
And it's about eight minutes away from having salsa and cheese
and grease and meat and beans
speckled all over it as if I danced in a sprinkler of Amigo's Mexican goodness.
The three weekend dress is resting at the dry cleaners right now.
I hope I can revive it so it can be worn at Wedding #2 this weekend in Vermont.
But it's not looking good.
When I brought the dress in this morning at 7:00 a.m.,
the sweet old lady working at the counter took one look at it and asked,
"you leave this outside?"
Yes, yes I did. And unfortunately a hurricane ran through.
and since this is probably as close as I'll ever get to a "fashion post"
I'm linking up with Erin today!
