Suburban Oblivion

With all the excitement and live-blogging and re-capping of BlogHer 08, its easy to overlook the less-than-thrilling things that were going on outside of San Fran this weeked. I hear there was a BlogHer pity party, but I missed it. The Queen of Shake-Shake was missing in action due to her attendance of ShagHer 08. (Color me green with envy, the bitch performed so well she’s getting paid for it.)  Neil Kramer hosted BlogHim 08, which I hear was a smashing success, despite lack of sponsors, venue, or attendees. I did get to catch up with Neil and Sarcastic Mom on Twitter Saturday evening, and we had a rather lively discussion about boob-grabbing, so the weekend wasn’t a total wash.

That said, the one thing I could have totally done without this weekend was the trip I took Saturday afternoon to get a haircut. You see, while you guys were attending BlogHer, BlogHim, parties, and everything else, I was busy getting half my eyebrow ripped off by a crazed esthetician.

No, seriously, she really did rip off half my eyebrow.

See that big bare spot to the left of my eye? There used to be brow there. Brow that matches the other side, which I still have. Not that the crazy bitch didn’t attempt to shorten that one too, and at one point have the nerve to comment on how short one of them was. “No worries” she tells me, “They told us in school its normal for them to grow differently!”. I assume by grow differently, she meant AFTER she accidently spread the wax too far and attempted to scalp my face?

Too add insult to injury, the hair place could not figure out how to do a refund on a service. It’s never a good sign when they say “Oh, corporate told us we aren’t supposed to do services anymore.”

Umm, gee, wonder why??????

So now I have to go through the whole 800 number mess to try to get a refund on a wax they apparently weren’t even supposed to be doing.

I realize I’ve not been blogging as much as I should lately, but when I ask the universe for inspiration, how about next time we go a little easier? I would have settled for a “BlogHer 09-bound!” post

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Overheard in a store-

Do you think this shirt will stretch to fit me?

Back away from the racks lady. Turn around and walk away slowly.

I’ve always loved Fussypants, but she’s given me even more reason to adore her with the start of Fight the Frump Fridays.

I decided to kick off the premier Fight the Frump week by updating on the Mardi Gras ball that I set out to lose 20lbs for and get back into that 2 sizes too small ball gown. While I didn’t lose 20lbs, I did manage to lose a little bit, and between that and a hell of a lot of spandex, I did indeed get back into the dress. Barely. And it took a safety pin to make sure the zipper didn’t pop open. As Tim Gunn would say, “Make it work!”, and I did.

I was a little self-conscious about how tight the gown was, right until I got there. Let me tell you one thing I’ve learned, and this should be an official Fight the Frump Commandment- “Thou shalt not spurn the lycra.” Truly folks, when the occasion calls for a fitted gown, supportive undergarments are a must. Lumps and bumps are normal, but a good body shaper is a girl’s best friend for smoothing things out and letting the dress shine.

On another “Make it work” note, I have to show off the shoes. (Fussypants, don’t look girlfriend. Seriously, close your eyes.) I know they are slutty, I know they are tacky, but there is not better cute for a 5-inch too long hemline than 6-inch heels, and gosh darnit, I like them! These would *only* be acceptable under a floor length gown, so I will let them be my once a year indulgence. I’m developing a serious thing for hooker shoes.

If the shoes make you feel sexy and boost your self-confidence(and can’t be seen under the dress), then I am personally declaring them anti-frump. Just don’t get arrested and it’s all good.