I know I sound like some gaytardo from a sophie kinsella book when I write titles like that, but I need to indicate the gravity of the problem. I bought another handbag today. A year ago I couldn't buy handbags, they all looked like overdecorated vaginas (or vageens, or hoontangs, depending on the mood) anyways, overdecorated primary sex organ symbols and I hated them. I had a big bike bag, and a smaller bike bag and a backpack and all was well in the world.

Then I started growing out my hair, wearing sandals and smallish shoes, and the bag thing just came and smacked me upside the head like J'Lo's new perfume.

So today, there I was in Winner's looking for a foundation garment for my upcoming bridesmaid excitement and lo I found one and walked around with it at Winner's for 45 minutes looking for gold slip-ons etc.. At the moment that I was awkwardly carrying gold slip-ons, a gold little clutch thingie, a foundation garment, a box of Burberry perfume and the new handbag (ahem) who should walk up but Carrie Haber, who is this awesome woman I used to work with at Studio XX. Carrie has an impeccable fashion sense, and great hair so I was a little non-plussed to be holding all that shwag and having a stain on my shirt. But also I realized she hadn't really seen me in like 2 years when I had much shorter hair and normally was to be seen wearing a teeshirt, jeans, and a bike bag. So regardless of the stain she gave me some weird looks...

All that to say somebody, please, needs to throw some cold water (or a pitcher of beer) on my head and get me the hell out of femme land stat. I BOUGHT ANOTHER HAND BAG SOME BURBERRY AND A PAIR OF MINT GREEN HALF CALF LEGGINGS TODAY. I AM ABOUT TWO MONTHS AWAY FROM SHINY BELTS AND DEBTORS PRISON.

I am also full of enviro guilt, I feel like a human landfill. It's like buyer's remorse spoken by David Suzuki.