Pretentious work out gear, obviously.

        It should come as no surprise that I love to shorten words.  Perf, obvi, and totes (ie: totally- obvi) are a part of my daily repertoire.   However, it might be slightly confusing to see the perfectly long word "obvious" in the title of this blog entry.  Since when do I ever say the full word, "obviously"?  Well, you're about to find out, but first I have to digress for a second.

Sensei wisdom- go!

        The new year started out rad because I secretly ordered an obscene amount of unnecessary athletic clothing from the store a friend likens to "crack for women," Lululemon.  

If you don't know what this means, we aren't going to dignify your foolery by spelling it out on our store front for you

        I am fully aware that this store is full of pretentious, ridiculously over priced work out gear.  Eric calls it the "hundred dollar store" (as opposed to the dollar store.)  It sucks me in every time.  I compulsively check the "we made to much"  section of the store's website to see if the pair of running pants I am most recently obsessed with has been marked down below, well... one hundred dollars. (And, yes, they are that ostentatious.  Lululemon does not go on sale.  Sometimes they just make too much.  You're welcome, Universe.)  Confession: I bought sweatpants at this store.  And a hooded sweatshirt.  And running pants.  And a paper thin yoga cover up that has sleeves with thumb holes.  Don't judge me.  The hoodie has sparkles in it- what was I supposed to do?

Looks better on me- duh

       Bad news: I got busted by Eric.  Now, in his defense, he would never come out and tell me not to buy something.  He's far to clever for that.  He did, however, give me the look.  You know, the we're trying to save a down-payment for a house, and you're seriously going to spend - HOW MUCH- on *ahem* another pair of sweatpants.  So, as you can imagine, what came out of my mouth on the way to the cash register was a last ditch attempt to leave the store with merchandise in tow, and a minimal guilt trip.  "I won't buy any more clothes for the next three months!"  The words weren't all the way out of my mouth before I felt the blood drain from my face.  I felt dizzy- faint, even.  I tried to think fast.  How could I cover it up?  "I meant three weeks?  No wait!  I said three days." It was too late.  He heard exactly what I said, and before I could regain my composure...we pinky swore on it.  JUSTIN BEIBER.

         Ever since that horrific moment, random crap has been going wrong.  I forgot I was carrying a water bottle that was open and poured it all over my purse.   I lost my parking ticket and nearly had to pay for a whole day of parking down town.  I burned myself on the oven.  I got a paper cut from the cardboard holding the sanitary toilet seat covers.  I snagged my Lulu yoga cover up on the Velcro on my reusable shopping bag.  Well, that's what I get for trying to save the earth.  

        This brings me to my next point.  You should all be fairly well versed in the proper use of terms such as  "Ratsicles,"  and "Obvi,"  but when to go full on "obviously?"  Well, seeing as how I have stupid misfortunes that I bring upon myself on a daily basis, I can't very well swear every time they happen.  Well, I could, but people would think I have Tourette's.  So, instead of cussing when I poured water into my purse, I just sighed and said, "Obviously."  It's sort of like saying, "why wouldn't I have just done that?"  I would.  I'm me.  Obviously.

        Coffee poured on my shirt before I get to work? Obviously.

        Cat peed on the futon?  Obviously.

        Accidentally pinky swore off retail therapy for three months?  Obviously.

         Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go do some laundry so I have clean fancy pants for the week, as I clearly can't buy any new ones before April.  Obviously.

There is no wind in my sales. (pun intended)