‘Saturday night’s all right’

Banner day in Goddess’ world. Really. Outstanding on all accounts.

The day started with some terse words with the OEH and were followed up with a text from her that was reminiscent of someone else from my past (who is not part of my present; draw the parallel).

This just bought someone one-way plane fare to Siberia.

On Oceanic Flight 815. 🙂

I texted back a, “Thank you for justifying my frustration.”

The only real low point of the day was attending my city’s Sucko de Mayo celebration. Yes, I typed that right. Paid 10 bucks to enter, and left within five minutes. Four booths and three taco stands and some mariachi music. I seriously wanted to ask for a refund but I figured maybe the money would help them to relocate to Texas before it secedes.

In any event, it was all good from there. After spending my biweekly pay at the farmer’s market (all on fresh, yummy froot), I went to my WW meeting today and found out I was down 4.2 pounds for the week. Yay! Considering that I only dropped a half-pound over the past month, I’m fairly all right with that.

To reward my incredible shrinking ass, I parked that pale butt on the beach for two hours and managed not to get a sunburn while I was there. Hurrah Neutrogena’s 70 SPF cooling mist — especially for a girl who’s as white as the sand upon which she lounged. Of course, now I have sand in very strange places; how the hell does it GET there, is my question. But wevs. Good day at the beach, I say.

I was lucky — when I parallel-parked at the shore, the gal in front of me said not to put money in my meter. Instead, she told me to pull up into her spot (she was leaving), as she had two hours left on hers. Score! When I dragged my butt back to the car after two hours, I put some money in the meter to help out the next person. Feels good to get a break every once in a while.

I went home to shake the sand out of my clothes and get a ‘ho bath before heading up to Sunfest, which ended up being an epic FAIL on my part. Since I wanted to get the fuq out of the house as soon as possible, I failed to get directions. I figured, I know my way around (*hahahaha*); I’ll just park at CityPlace and walk from there.

So after walking SIX MILES, I finally found the place. At this point, I was sunburned in very weird patches because I didn’t reapply my sunscreen evenly. And you know what? Fuck Sunfest.

Sure, I was hot to see David Cook perform (he’s performing RIGHT THIS MINUTE *cry*) — I will always be a drooling fangirl for him. But I was hot and hungry and fucking crabby. And I really didn’t want to walk all the way back in the dark, so I decided to turn back while the sun was still scorching my poor shoulders and back.

But I looked cute. Loved my outfit. I’ve been working on building a summer wardrobe, since I’m told it’s gorgeous 10 months out of the year here. My mind is officially blown that not only am I shopping in petites again, but also juniors. So, the day would have been a win for that reason alone.

So, with Sunfest up in smoke, I did something I never do and treated myself to dinner while I was up there. Had several glasses of premium Pinot Noir. Also feasted on crabmeat-encrusted sea bass that was served over a risotto pancake. I went elsewhere for coffee and some kickass tiramisu.

I don’t even want to discuss what I spent on that feast. But for some reason, I felt like celebrating. And by golly, I’m worth it!

Am down 64.2 pounds officially (although tonight’s dinner should have eradicated all of that) and have a ways to go still, but God it feels good to be a gangsta have made all this progress. The finish line isn’t anywhere near being in sight, but I’m more than halfway there.

I figured that 34 would be my year. It so totally was. Now that I’m about to turn 35 34 again (*cough*), there’s no reason why it can’t be better than the last one. I’m in a better place, literally and figuratively. So, you know. Even-more onward and even-more upward.

Work is taking an interesting turn, too. No details to give at this point, but I’m pretty much living the dream right now. Or, at least, that’s the plan. If I could just clear out my guest room, I’d be the poster child for perfection.

I wouldn’t know how to act if all were truly well in my world. Really. But I sure wouldn’t mind having the opportunity. But as it stands, I’m as close as I’ve ever been. And I’m quite OK with moving in the right direction, no matter how long it takes to get there.

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