Happy Monday

I got back from Belize late last night. The short version? It was awesome, and I look like a motherfucking lobster. The long version is to come, as soon as I get my pics out of my waterlogged camera and upload them.

And since most of my days aren’t complete until I’ve made a complete ass out of myself at least once, I though I’d share with you my morning subway adventure.

I was quite sunburned this morning, so I spent some time finding an outfit that was cute and would not inflict pain upon my fragile skin at the same time. I settled on a pair of jeans that just come past the knee, flower-print flats, and an army green button-down ¾ sleeve top. I assessed myself in my full-length mirror, deemed the outfit a success, threw on a jacket and was on my way.

At the Broadway-Lafayette stop, I hopped out of the F-Train to hop onto a D-train across the platform. There were no seats on the D, so I set up shop at a pole, opened up Clown Girl: A Novel and began reading. And then I noticed it. My top two buttons on my shirt had come undone at some unknown point, exposing roughly 100% of my boobs. I wrapped myself around the pole and tried to inconspicuously button my shirt before the one remaining person on the subway car who hadn’t seen my chest noticed.

You’d think the worst part of it all would be the fact that I flashed my boobs at two subway carfuls of people and possibly some passersby on two platforms. Nope. The worst part was that I had my big, white, old lady bra on when I did it, and not something at least a little bit on the cute side.