|Yes, yes - it's the same photo as yesterday - live it, love it, note how the black & white + stationery obscures the (black) roots here. We're at Code Level Brunette here, folks. TSA has nothing on this panic level.|
*end reader arse-kissing*
This definition has come into play here at Pretty HQ, where I'm booked for a different social event every day this week (rare enough), culminating with a Vegas trip this weekend with a bunch of people I don't know well (rare rare - like, bleeding steak rare).
This schedule would be enough to send Old Me headfirst into my DVR'ed "Real Housewives" collection & the solitary comforts of the Pretty couch; new me, however, is happy about this new, busy normal. Don't get me wrong- there will be plenty of me time (ie, "spa","shopping" & "sleeping in") built into my weekend, but my happiness to meet new people is, for once, outweighing my anxiety about it & about leaving Master P & the Anonymous Husband for the weekend.
Plus, did you the spa/ shop/ sleep in bit? Funny how a girl can get friendly when faced with some Triple S time ("Triple S" somehow sounding racy whilst being the complete opposite).