Last night was a tough one. After wedding dress shopping with Sabominator, (hint: go to her “lameass wedding planner” to see a pic of the most fucking gorgeous dress EVER. Unless you are her fiancee, in which case, back the eff up.) (just kidding.) she and I met up with our friends for dinner. As is wont to happen, the food began to work its magical spells on me shortly after the meal, and I got tired.

Then, safely home, while pulling on my “yoga” pants (aka “sitting around, drinking, and scratching myself” pants), Katsumi drops the bomb. He wants to go to Elements. Elements, the soul-shattering drum n’ bass night that historically leaves me shitty with liquor, hungover for days, scraping the blisters off my beaten feet and begging the universe for mercy. I wanted to say “NO” “SCREW THAT” or “OVER MY DEAD BODY”, but somehow I found myself back in the car, driving to Cambridge.

Elements is one of those things where you get there, and it’s kind of chill and empty, but then at some point one dude hops into the middle of the dance floor and busts out some electro moves he’s been practicing in his bedroom. Then things start to get heated. The music steps up, gets louder, but it’s still just the one dude with the electro moves flailing around like a fish on a line. Slowly, around midnight, other people get in on the action, and pretty soon you’re looking around and thinking “WHAT are these people ON??” There’s two chicks making out in the corner, some dude dressed all in black with his eyes closed drinking red bull through a straw, the electro boy is covered in sweat and you start to think he might have taken one too many e-bombs, some girl is curled up on a bench with her head in her hands, and then a cadre of Harvard undergrads bust into the scene, all drunk squealing and tank tops and waving arms, and you might finally be like, “you know, this is cool and all, but it’s 1 in the morning, and I’ve fucking had enough already.”

and then you might get home late, after a work-related detour, and pass out.

But what would you say if, after THAT, there was a middle-of-the-night PHONE CALL that your fiancee has to go BACK to work to do something about something or other. And then in the morning maybe he’s too tired to reset the alarm and maybe you oversleep by like half an hour. So you can’t get coffee. Or shower.

So here you are, at work, overtired, dirty, drinking bad coffee, sucking on a diet coke like it’s your lifeblood. What is the only thing that could make your morning sparkle with delight?

Maybe it’s the Paloma Blanca Spring 2006 collection finally being online. Style numbers 3702, 3704, and 3708, specifically. And maybe this situation is not about you, it’s about me. Follow that link and leave me small notes, because really, I’m about to shrivel up and die.

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EDITED to add AAAAAAAAH and FUCK to the list, because I just got off the fucking phone with the fucking church again and FUCK SHUT FUCK this shit FUCKING BLOWS. So now you definitlely have to tell me things about the dresses, because I’m about ready to throw my heathen fucking self out the plexiglass fucking window.

big thanks to newlywed east side girl for the well-timed support. the rest of you, get to work already. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary.