I Heart Igigi (aka "Why I Need To Make More Money, Because I Want To Buy All Their Stuff")
Valentine's Day is coming up, and for once I've practically demanded that Kevin and I do something both shmoopy and stereotypical. I have not only hinted that getting flowers would be awfully nice, I have also demanded that he skip bowling in favor of spending the evening with his gorgeous wife of almost a year. So we're probably going to end up going out to The Butcher Shop (we are nothing if not predictable), which means I'll be getting tarted up.
My current favorite Tarting Up Dress is the
Brigitte dress that I bought from Igigi in December. I was at the height of my frumpiness feelings back then , having gained a bunch of weight while recovering from the wrist and sporting a decidedly non-sexy giganto orthotic brace on my wrist. But the company Christmas party was coming up and I needed something to wear that would be comfortable and sassy and easy to dress up. Who else would I go to but
Igigi, the home of the sassiest wrap dress ever?
Weetabix introduced me to Igigi a few years back when I was complaining about not being able to find a dress that fit me since I'm shaped weird (my bottom half is pretty much a different size than my top half, plus I've got this weirdly short torso), and I've been spreading the love myself since then (in case you hadn't noticed). Not long after I bought the Brigitte dress, I got an email from none other than the lovely Ozlem, also known as
The Fashionistique over on Igigi.com. She offered to send mea very lovely dress to try out for holiday party, so I of course took her up on it.
She sent me
the Isabelle dress and it was gorgeous...fully lined, good proportions, straps wide enough to cover my bra straps (essential when you have a Rack of Immense Proportions), and just enough sparkle to dress up the lace. It was really quite perfect. Except....my freakishly proportioned torso meant the straps were about 2-3 inches too long and without some serious alterations to them, there was no way I could wear it to the party. Oh, how I wish I had a normal length torso! (Seriously, this has been a problem my whole life...any dress with straps like that needs to be altered to fit me.)
Since I didn't have time to get things altered, I went with the Brigitte dress I had (luckily) also purchased. Again, fully lined, good proportions, fantastically comfy fabric, and the combination of the neckline and the way the skirt was cut consipred to do exactly what I wanted it to do...emphasize the good and hide the unfortunate without reserting to supportive undergarments. I got tons of compliments on it at the Christmas party, and Kevin loves to see me wear it, which is the best compliment of all. And what's even more awesome about it is that I can dress it up for a party or a night on the town, make it more businessy for work or even dress it way down for the weekend. I'm trying to decide between buying another one in pink or going for a totally different dress, because it's definitely time to buy some more clothes from there.
(Actually, I'm thinking I need
this shirt before I go to Wisconsin next month because if that's not a Bad Bar shirt, I don't know what is.)
Anyways, this whole entry is to tell you that A) we're doing Valentine's Day up right this year, dang it and B) you should totally be shopping at Igigi if you resemble me in any way, shape or form body wise. It's worth every penny and then some, AND (thanks to Ozlem!) you can get a 10% discount if you use the code WRAP on your order. Which I am totally going to do very, very soon.
Yeah, yeah, I'm bossy, whatever.
In Which Kevin's Aversion To Lotion Creates Hilarity:"Did you put some lotion on the old man butthoole elbow?"
(Sidebar: I once commented that his puckery, ashy elbow looked like an angry old man's butthole; I have no idea why I did this, I just did. Unfortunately for the elbow, the nickname stuck.)
"Yes, and my hands too. I just hope it doesn't stain the sheets."
"Stain the sheets??"
"Well yeah."
"Dude, it's LOTION, not ELK GREASE. Sheesh."
"Elk grease? What the hell?"
In Which A Serious Discussion Goes Horribly Awry:"Seriously, what do you want to do with your ashes?"
"What? Why are we talking about this now?"
"Well, we need to decide these things now so I don't have to worry about it when I'm in the throes of grieving for you."
"I really wasn't joking very much about keeping me in a coffee can. You can really do that."
"When I die, I want you to use the life insurance money and turn me into a gigantic
LifeGem diamond and mount me in a big old man ring and wear me around."
"Ew. That's oogy."
"What's oogy? The LifeGem or the man ring?"
"The man ring."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *As you can see, I've been entirely too busy dealing with the hilarity that is living with my husband to deal with things like blog entries. That, and working 6 hours days was leaving me zero time to slack at work. So apparently I waste approximately 2 hours a day when I'm at work, because now that I'm back at work for full 8 hour days I have plenty of time for both work and slacking. And here I thought I was wasting at LEAST 4. Between that and the fact that my to do lists are never having more than 3-4 items left on them when I leave for the day, I feel much better about myself as an employee now.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *Riley has developed a new compulsion this month, and while it's kind of hilarious, it's also kind of annoying. He's figured out that there is sometimes milk and quite often water in my glass (and/or Kevin's glass) and since he is powerless against milk and water, he cannot resist stick his fool head right on into it. Kinda like this:
Except nowadays, where it used to be an occasional thing, it's now every damn time I have something to drink. He comes running out to the living room as soon as he hears me pouring water into my glass so he can get the fist sip.
I suppose maybe we should stop letting him actually stick his head in there, but then what would I have to complain about? Nothing, that's what.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *So we're going to Wisconsin for
Weetacon, and if you're not, then you suck.
Ha! Not really. Well, maybe you do but that's between you and your significant other and I do not want to hear about it.
The
inaugural Weetacon was where we got engaged and dude, we were bummed we could not be there last year since it happened a month before the wedding (but hey, at least we had a good excuse!). But we are totally there this year and you should be too.
Weetacon!!!Wait, I meant to say
THREETACON, bitches. Be there.
Labels: cats, conversations, random
Boredom be damned
I realized the other day that I really need to get another hobby because when the most exciting thing going on in one's life is doctor's appointments and work dramas, it's time to get a life.
But in the meantime, how about we talk about work dramas and doctor's appointments?
Okay, not really because there's not much to say about either of them. The wrist is still broken (seriously, I saw the X-ray and it's literally still broken but all my surgeon had to say about that was a casual "Well, it was a REALLY BAD BREAK" so I'm not too worried about it), and I've been having to do a hell of a lot of damage control thanks to my (thankfully) now ex-assistant/office clerk (which has kept me more than a little busy). On the good side, I'm back to work 6 hours a day and I'm actually liking my job again so color me surprised as all hell.
(Speaking of hell, I got a jury summons today. I'm totally not going to go either, because I have a secret weapon way to get out of it thanks to our vast bowling network. And to think we thought we were just bowling for the fun of it.)
Anyway, I'm looking into starting my volunteering again. I decided while I was out on disability that once we leave California, I'd like us to look into being foster parents. No, we still don't want kids of our own, but that doesn't mean I don't think we could do some good for kids whose parents didn't think out the whole parent thing before creating them. Right now is not the best time for it, but I still want to start helping. The foster care system is a mess, and there's thousands more kids who aren't in foster care but still need some serious help to keep themselves out of trouble. So for now I'm going to look into doing the Big Sister thing. I figure it'll be a good way to get back into volunteering.
At the very least, it'll give me something more interesting to write about.
