I also have been handed two different prescription antibiotics in order to kill the creepy genetic bacteria. Well, it's killing a lot of other bacteria too. So I'm numb in the face and itchy in the crotch all because I don't floss enough. Let this be a lesson to you!
At least this took some of the attention off of the ultra itchy mosquito bites that I have from going to a glorious wedding this weekend, where my husband officiated. Ordained by the Universal Life Church as a self-proclaimed Universal Philosopher of Absolute Reality, he has now married two sets of friends. And it was lovely. Of course I don't have many pictures because we both left our cameras in the hotel and my iphone was almost dead when I started trying to take pictures with that. I did dance so hard in a pair of platform heels that my legs still hurt from all the work to my quads - gettin' down. At one point I got down and couldn't get my ass back up and needed a hand. And then I kept on dancing. Here is a picture of the dress that I wore, the first strapless dress I've ever owned. And it stayed up the whole night! (Although I'm certain it's because I've gained too much belly weight to let it fall below a certain point - a plus side to my weight gain?) Anyway, I looked pretty hot and I wish I had a picture of it. Oh well.
|Cirque A-line dress from Anthropologie with my own obi belt|
I am definitely still stuck in a state of I don't have anything to say so I'm not going to post anything. Actually, my head is, in fact, often wild with endless, useless words building up in my head that I never share. Not even on twitter, because I also have a problem with the limitations of 140 characters, if only because I feel they have to be some sort of poetry. This is such a cop out. What I actually need to do is write and write and write and write and write. If you don't like what I have to say, I'm sure you'll tell me. In fact you did. You told me to keep writing and I didn't. I thought about it a lot, but I still didn't do it. And then I went to the dentist, and came home feeling sorry for myself and started reading stuff that made me want to write stuff even if it wasn't very interesting. I wish I had more time to read to be inspired to write, but then sometimes I think I might just piss it away doing laundry and feeling sorry for myself. pout.