It's official now

I'm a slug. Transformation is complete. I know I've been getting a bit lazy lately, but this is ridiculous. I've either got to start dating again or act like I am or it's going to get scary around here.

I just got back from the old bowling alley, smelling like an ashtray. I actually had a good time as I packed up a tote bag (I am the QUEEN of tote bags and could probably build a home entirely out of them) with about 12 knitting magazines...and spent all the time between shots going through them and sticking notepad pages out with what I want to make so I can tell where the heck everything is. I am starting another tank top (ONLY because I finally found the perfect one for my silver glitterspun yarn I've now frogged from 2 tops and already have sitting in my stash, so no more $$ there). I need to scan some pics as I found the most amazing sweater on a full-page ad in the Holiday 2004 Vogue Knitting mag. OMG. THIS is why I learned to knit. I must find this pattern and buy it and create this masterpiece and I will transform from the lowly slug to a stunning beauty. (or at least I'll look hot in the sweater, whatever works). It's a tube-top-ish thing with ribbing and cables and has a gorgeous shrug (sleeves that are attached to each other but tighter fitting than a shrug and a scarf all done in winter white OMG I MUST CREATE THIS!!! Then I'd HAVE to hit the gym and get all buffed up again.

BACK to the slug story. Well, I was all together this evening. Along with my tote of organization knitting supplies, I had my contra-band diet coke in a bottle to sneak in (they have gone all pepsi and it KILLS me to not have my diet coke while I bowl), had my bowling shirt (I keep forgetting and they make me pay $2 extra for a stinking shirt fine), even a clippie for my hair so I can see where I'm throwing the ball. I was READY for the evening. Then, driving down the road thinking, oh, did I remember to change into my bowling bra? (a racer-back one so the straps don't fall off my shoulder and throw off the bowling) and then I realized, OH CRAP. I haven't worn a damn bra in a week. I've been living in turtlenecks & sweatshirts & jeans & my little slip/on tennies/hiking boot things. (Remember I'm only about a half A-cup, so a bra is basically to give me shape, keep anything from poking through shirts and for warmth. I've been comfy with the heavy sweatshirts and not bothered. I about died. Well, I bowled with just the bowling polo shirt and went commando. Not one of my better moments. Combined with the fact that I also haven't shaved my legs in a week, I'm just a little bundle of feminine beauty lately. (I do still bathe, so don't get too scared).

After returning home smelling like an ashtray, hopped in the shower, shaved twice (hey, I was like a wookie here) and resolved to GET OVER THIS CRAP. I have had my spirit broken by the mighty mighty dungeon, but I'm still breathing. I'm wearing HEELS tomorrow and a cute sweater and a BRA. I used to have fashion sense, I used to look stylish (ok it was a few years behind the times, but it was still a style, dammit). I hope to have saved myself before I start leaving a trail of slime where ever I go like the little slug people, but it's a long climb back to humanity. At least I'll have some cute damn tank tops to wear once I get back there.

At least I made it through the day without eating anything too terrible. Yea for me. The night's not over yet, but I'm tring Jenn's approach of eating cereal. Cheerios it is tonight, baby.