OK, so despite my bag anxiety, I am all set in that department. I have my nifty dive-bag carry-on filched from Oldest Daughter (is it really filching if you just blather on incessantly about how much you love it until she just gives it to you, because that's the kind of sweetheart she is?), a large purse to throw the need-it-now stuff in, just in case the dive bag gets checked and lost, and a kicky little (although it's actually big by my little purse standards) bronze leather number to carry while I'm there. Whew.
Next on the list was bathing suit. Becuase there's just something wrong about hanging around the pool at the Bellagio in a three-year old purple nike tank from Sam's.
Now, before I go any further, I want to make it perfectly clear that milli, kam, and annie will not care what I am wearing, or carrying, or do with my hair. I can show up bald and in burlap and they will not care. I know this for a fact, because I feel the same way about them. I mean, I might wonder why they are bald and in burlap, but not in a fashion judgement kind of way. Besides, they know me. They know I cut my own hair and carry the same old purse for years on end and only wear flats and need to lose 30 pounds. In fact, if I show up in anything remotely stylish, we will probably never find each other, because they would still be wandering around the airport two days later, looking for someone who looks like what I look like.
That said, I still felt like I needed a new bathing suit. And you know what? It's really, really hard to find a bathing suit at the end of August. I don't mean it's hard to find a cute bathing suit. It's hard to find one at all. I did finally run across a mark-down rack and grabbed anything that wasn't a bikini in any size remotely close to the one I think I wear. And then it was off to the dressing room for a little fashion show - or, as I like to call it, Cellulite on Parade.
I found out that I am between sizes. Which is worse - a bathing suit that is slightly baggy, or a bathing suit that looks like it's about to pop apart at the seams? Please say pop apart, because I went for the slightly baggy. I figure the chances of me gaining weight in the next two weeks are much higher than the chances of me losing weight. Plus, I puff up like a blowfish when I fly. There was only one that fit, so I bought it. It's a really stupid bathing suit. The bottoms have a sash belt. A sash! Belt!
I think I might need those gold houseshoes after all.