a blog launched to laugh at my own expense

A World Without October 2014


Many an Instagram taglines have recently radiated "I would hate to live in a world without October." But I beg to differ... I would love to live in a world without October 2014. 


The month got off to a rocky start when my hair colorist decided to take an an impromptu two week vacation. I am not sure why she thought it was appropriate to skip my appointment and sentence to fourteen additional bad hair days. How inconsiderate of her boyfriend to propose during my root growth cycle. So, like any over processed blonde trying to fight fate, I decided I would self medicate my brown hair depression by tanning. That was until I was made aware that I had ran out of tanning dollars and my only option was to pay for tanning with real dollars. Not. Happening.  

So there I was, facing down October with brown hair and pale skin. "Thats fine", I thought, at least I have my Instagram followers and Fall with a filter is such a good Instagram season. Except that I lost twenty-three of my Instagram followers following a breakup. A breakup that was painfully made worse when he demanded I remove all pictures of him. #21centurybreakupprobs. So now I'm nearly a brunette, I'm pale, I'm single, I'm losing like-counts and its barely the middle of October. They say it gets worse before it gets better? This is how my October got worse:


It started when my roommate left the City to host a conference. Her timing was less than ideal as she was leaving me in my time of crisis to my own devices. (Namely Chinese take out and ice cream sandwiches.) After nearly poisoning myself with expired milk and not understanding why the dishwasher hadn't emptied itself, I begged her to come home to me. It didn't work. Apparently you can't post pone a conference because your roommate is going through an emotional eating phase. 


So after re-watching every episode of my favorite show,  I decided standing vertical was necessary. I picked the Chinese fortune cookies from my hair, and cried as I attempted to roll myself off the couch. 

The crying continued when I checked my Tinder :


It is actually statistically impressive that I am Tinder match-less. (I blame a software glitch in my particular iPhone.) The odds are never in my favor.


Unable to line up a Tinder date, I headed to Annapolis to see my best friend. Granted, I would have picked her over a Tinder date but it would have been nice to have options. Meow-grette and I had the most wonderful weekend until she had to go back to Wyoming, at which point I remembered why I hated October. 










I came back to the city and braced myself for my next breakdown. It only took a two days. 7 hours before a dawn flight to Orlando, I realized that I forgot my wallet at work. The easy thing would have been to go back to work and pick it up... except my work key was in my wallet. Luckily, I knew a more responsible co-worker who worked longer (not necessarily harder) than me and I begged her to bring it to the airport. She did. Thank kittens. 




As my best friend said, "Your company took you to Disney World? How very Oprah of them."



And then it was Halloween. Normally, I love any excuse to play dress up but not this October. Pre-break-up, I found two made-for-your-dog killer whale costumes. I transformed them into human costumes and was PUMPED. But when Halloween arrived... and no one.... no one wanted to be a whale with me. (Apparently when my girlfriends weighed in on the mental debate between dressing sultry or dressing funny, dressing as a whale tipped the scale unfavorably)



Dressed in my college ballet uniform, I headed to Fed Hill. During a night out in Baltimore, I felt inspired my by dancer outfit... inspired enough to challenge a very large man to a very competitive dance off which ended in defeat and a broken pinkie toe. I was the one who walked away with both.


All hope was not lost as I shared a romantic first kiss the morning after Halloween.




Rabbit Rabbit... My outfits and I are ready for November. It can only get better. 



xo
B











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