Very Bad Thirty Year Old

I've spent the last three hours looking through every nook and cranny in my car and my house for the pink slip to my car and, baby, it's gone.

I just don't know how I'm thirty years old and I still do this. I have so many parking tickets. I'm so far behind on my student loans. I'm pretty far behind on my studio payments too. I think about all the things I ignore because they stress me out so much and I wish I still felt awful enough to want to die. Honestly, knowing I was like 3 steps from trying to die was a comfort, because it was a solution. Now I'm kind of even keeled and it's not an option. It just isn't, so what am I going to do.

I just texted my mom about the slip and she was very understanding, but I feel her getting less and less okay with my bullshit and I understand. I feel so bad when I think about the kids she's stuck with- two do-nothing artists with debt and excuses.

My mom deserves a better daughter. I can't believe I'm driving across the country for no fucking reason now. I wish I was taking a plane.

Why did my mom move to Missi-fucking-sippi?

And The Morning After

The Wedding Day

Kasumi

The Rehearsal Dinner

Marie and her sister look so much alike! 

Sumi and Marie being normal and then a different kind of normal

ditto (Marie's dad in the background)

My outfit, which I was really happy with, hence the extra-ass posing in the bathroom mirror

It turned out better than I thought

Okay. As usual I psyched myself out, and the dress turned out lovely and the wedding was very enjoyable. For some reason anything that takes effort and planning makes me S p IR a L the fuck out. Anyways, pictures of the dress, with pictures from the wedding to follow.

quite the fucking glow up if i do say so myself

Hideous, Hideous

I had to get fitted for a bridesmaids dress this week and it was not a horrible, but also not a pleasant experience. none of the dresses fit my horrendous boobs, and even when I found something I felt okay, even pretty in, the photos revealed a portly woman badly draped in cheap chiffon. Hardly flattering.

I got the sizes back from the stylist later, and she said for the dress I wanted the sizes were 14 in the hips, 20 in the waist, and 22 in the bust. 22! In the bust!

I'm a hideous top heavy matron! I knew it already, but now the numbers support it. I need to lose weight or I'll fucking kill myself.