I LOVE SWEAT PANTS

It's been far too long since the last installment, and I know Miriam and I are regretting buying new bathing suits because we haven't had the chance to show them of in the tub. (Note to Meredith: we told you once, you CANNOT continue to wear foot pajamas in the tub...you need to grow up and purchase a real bathing suit like miriam and myself. ok? don't make me bring this up again...your food pajamas absorb way too much water and the bath level goes down...don't forget there is three (3) of us.)

Well, since we're slightly on the topic of proper attire for proper circumstances, perhaps now is the best time for this particular installment of childhood/pre-teen terror.

In 7th grade I was planning on attending my first dance. Yes, you remember...bumping and grinding pre-teen dances where young children mimicked sex on the dance floor. I was scared. It was a Friday and mid-afternoon. All the girls in my class were talking about the BIG DANCE and I started sweating. My extremities became nervously clammy. During recess I was reading my latest edition of the X-Files magazine (mom bought it for me the night before) when I realized I needed a new outfit for the BIG DANCE. I had a terrible hair problem in the 7th grade: extra large bangs. They were both thick and curly and the closest evidence I have seen of the big bang theory. Therefore, I new I needed just the perfect outfit to off-set the bangs. However, I also knew I had figure skating practice BEFORE the dance. With that said, not only was pre-gaming with Hi-C Cooler and Ssips lemonade out of the question, so was purchasing a new outfit. I decided I should use the pay phone to call home and have mom pick something up for me in the meantime. The mistakes we make...

When I arrived home and was ready to dress for the dance, I saw it. It was hanging out on my bed next to a new pair of jeans. My stomache turned but I knew I had no other options. The wool, rainbow colored sweater vest and white turtle neck that mom thought would be PERFECT for the dance would have to do. I convinced myself it wasn't that bad. Oh, but it was. I arrived at the dance to find every other girl wearing spaghetti-strap tank tops and flared jeans. Needless to say, my outfit also fully illuminated the big bang theory.

To this day, large sweaters in inappropriate situations makes me queeeeezy.