But in the short term?
So far in prep for the Bahamas I have:
1.) Bought tinted moisturizer, guaranteed to make me look less fish belly white. It promises a *glow*.
2.) Loofah to scrub down and remove all traces of dead skin.
3.) Did hair to more festive summer color of light brown/caramel/blonde.
4.) Bought apricot body scrub for emergency scrubbing (yeah, don't ask)
5.) Obsessively cleaning, moisturizing, and doing that thing with that stuff that prevents acne. A *lot*.
6.) Shoe shopped. DSW is my heroin.
7.) Bathing suit obsession. God. Dammit. For years, I managed to do it the old fashioned way and wait until the last second to grab whatever was left. But no. This time, I was going to be a careful shopper and pick something that looked good and was pretty. I discovered, like many women, that no matter what bathing suit I tried on, it looked terrible. Even the ones I didn't try on I instinctively *knew* would look terrible. The ones that they no longer stocked, of course, were the ones that I was certain would make me look taller, thinner, prettier, and less fish-belly white.
I cannto believe I spent three hours staring at bathing suits.
So I did it a differnet way. I foudn the cutest little skirt cover up and bought the bathing suit that matched.
...yeah. Do not judge me. I judge myself for the credit card bill.
8.) Bought shorts.
Okay, I live in Texas, but I don't have a call for shorts a lot. Or ever. I wear jeans because they are comfy, or aroudn the house, recycled jeans turned into cut off shorts if I have to go outside for some insane reason like watering plants or letting the rabbit exercise. My moment of horror came when I realized I was going on a five day cruise and had no summerwear.
And hey, when did shorts get this short? *blank* Some could double as fairly uncomfortable underwear. Well, I didnt' buy those, but the ones I did get? Jesus.
9.) Scheduled a waxing.
This is still something I may drop depending on panic level when I really understand that this is a process in which wax is put on me--in places that are say, fairly sensitive--and then ripped away. Right now it's still theoretical and I am dazzled by the idea of no razors.
However, I did discover what a Brazilian was. What is a mystery is how flexible you have to be to get one. That is--yeah. Huh.
*puts head on laptop* I feel the need to disclaim this by saying, rarely if ever will you *ever* see me obsessively trying on dresses again. As I did the other weekend. *Over twenty*. And typically, they all looked terrible. Except this one that was in teh wrong size but I am convinced would indeed have made me look taller, thinner, more attractive, and incredibly intelligent. I think it also can make julienne fries. Yes.
Note: There is no mood here for ashamed. *sad*