shoes: mudd brand. tights, belt, & shirt: forever21. skirt: gap. cardigan: rue21. bracelet: BurntSiena Designs.
I feel like I've worn this before...and if I have, I apologize. But one thing I know for certain: I haven't worn this while doing these dance moves. So.
I was an Irish dancer for a few years--even have the scuffed hardshoes and short plaid skirts to prove it. I was paid to perform with a dance company...does that make me a professional dancer? If so, I'd like to publicly apologize to the Dancing World for single-handedly demolishing its legitimacy.
I have nothing really to say today, so I'll commence with a few stream-of-consciousness sentences then bid you all a good day. Raise your hand if you're not up for that deal. Aw, c'mon. Raise an eyebrow? No? Too lazy even for that, huh. Fine.
So far, today can be summed up in the following Marie Osmond lyrics (a great song with an ironically happy tune in light of the somewhat depressing lyrics...I'd highly recomment a listen on grooveshark):
A day late and a dollar short,
All th' sweet cookies in the store been bought.
The prize fish in the creek's been caught.
Everything choice is gone.
Might as well travel on.
Only, here's the problem: as I spent my morning trying to travel on, as the song recommends, I apparently didn't realize it was National Old Man Behind the Wheel of his Slow-Moving Pickup Day. (Frankly, I didn't even know such a holiday existed, but it most obviously does, because I lived the celebration, full-fledged, on my town's very own Main Street.)
So. I think I'll forego any more 2 m.p.h. travel and instead curl up with some new home design books in my basement for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner will make itself, right? Right.
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