Driven by her desire for new clothes and my need to restock my supply of chocolate-covered peanut-butter-filled pretzel bites, Miranda and I took advantage of the strong Canadian dollar to do some cross-border shopping yesterday afternoon. We left the house just after 9am and took a gamble on the Abbotsford crossing, making it to our destination in record time. It was a great day to be out and about – a gorgeous day with light traffic and scented breezes. We found ourselves in Bellingham by 10:30, and started our day of shameless consumerism at Target (oh man we love Target) before moving on to the wretched hive of scum and villainy that is Ross. Exhausted from repeatedly getting naked and being coughed on by disgusting people, we went for lunch at the best Mexican restaurant in the universe before making a quick stop at Trader Joe’s before we left for home. It was a very fruitful trip, even after being (mostly) truthful when crossing back into Canada – we declared everything we bought, and were let through without needing to pay duty. Hooray!

I apologize for anyone who may be trying to buy a new dress in American this week, though – I bought every dress the United States had to offer. All of them. There are none left for anyone else. I came home with a record SIX dresses – three slutty, two classy (but still slutty), and one absolutely fucking ridiculous one that is too hilarious to be slutty. I’d been meaning to refresh my summer wardrobe and replace some of my worn out items that I still wear because I hate pants, and now I sort of have to because I bought all the dresses in the US.

In order to justify my spree, I have decided that I will wear a dress to work every day this week. Today I am decked out in black with white polka dots, and I am cute (if slutty). Hooray for new things at crazy good prices! Hooray for no pants!

I threw up* in a parking lot on Friday night after the craft night, and I am very pleased with myself. I did not do a lot of binge drinking during my formative years, and therefore missed out on a lot of the rites of passage into adulthood such as having someone hold my hair over a toilet, or date rape.  This past Friday I quite literally tossed my cookies after a night of binge drinking crafting, and am confident that it will count towards my merit badge for Grown Up given that I am allergic to alcohol.

(*: I hadn’t eaten more than Diet Coke and half a Snickers in 12 hours, and I was violently car sick on the way home with gross consequences)

this is why i need a handler when I go shopping - I bought both of these things.