Although it won't really do any good...
For those of us going to Chicago (and for those of you who AREN'T going...MAN...you've gotta be getting sick of us)...
I think it's fair to say that a majority of us have lost our precious little minds. We are stressing ourselves out! And do you know why? Because we are WOMEN.
And DAMN....we are so silly!
Here is a conversation I had with myself today:
Self: "Crap. What in Carrie Bradshaws name am I going to wear on Saturday for a day of shopping and relaxing? What shoes am I going to wear? Will I be able to breathe in my dress on Saturday night? What pajama's are going to make my boobs look good? Do I need to wear matching bra and panties in case we take our clothes off at a club? What should I travel in?
blah blah basdlfkjsdlfkjasdl;fjsdl;fkj sdklfj craptastic balkjdldkjf dlsjkf
Self: "Uh...CHECK YO SELF BEFORE YOU WRECK YOURSELF BIATCH! These people have seen you (on your own damn blog), in your underwear, bent over, showing your bellyskin. They have seen your power panties on a vlog. They have heard you talk about poop, vagina's, buttcrack hair. They have seen your before picture.
They know you jackass."
So, I guess what I am trying to say is...
It will be okay. It will be okay if you can't find a dress, or if your shoes don't match. It will be okay if you can't find that perfect outfit, or if your luggage is crap (me...mee...ooooh...meeee!). It will be okay if you can't walk to dinner bc the heels you did manage to find are more "bedroom shoes" then dinner shoes...because some of you have volunteered to carry the rest of us who are wearing the stupid shoes. Someone DID volunteer right?
And I have to remind myself that it will be okay if I am not as entertaining, smart, charming, witty, and stunning (and humble) as I come off on my blog. OOOH, wouldn't it be funny if it was like a Scooby Doo episode and someone rips face off and exposes me as Mr. Gruff the school janitor?
Now that I have said all that I feel so much better.
Excuse me though...I have to go and stand in front of my closet and cry.
I mean really...WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?