Vacation Me.

Vacation Me didn't take a single picture, so you'll have to look at a photo from three summers ago.  Vacation Me was a bit lazy.  

Vacation Me watched tons of Real Housewives of [pick your city] just because Regular Me doesn't have cable. 

Vacation Me got bossed around by a three year old every waking moment. Lucky for him, he's cute.

Vacation Me tore her last pair of contacts and had to wear glasses all week. Even during swimming, walking, and zip lining.  Darn you, Vacation Me.  

Vacation Me got a huge pimple. Just like I do on every vacation. No lie. 

Vacation Me couldn't handle baby vomit with any more grace than Regular Me. Especially since it is supposed to be baby vomit, but it looks suspiciously similar to adult voms.

Vacation Me read a ton.  Glorious.

Vacation Me tried to get a tan. Bwahahaha!  It's just never going to happen. White turns to burn, which turns back to white.  It is a really fun game my skin and VM like to play with each other.

Vacation Me enjoyed double sinks and king size beds while they lated.  But Regular Me now remembers how nice it is to be squeezed into the regular old queen sized bed and the one sink with the hubs.  More accidental butt grazes, you know.

Vacation Me swung from the trees like an ape at new ropes course in Williamsburg.  Check it out, here. I thought it was a kids ropes course, and even the website says it is moderate exertion.  False.  It was pretty dagum challenging!   

Vacation Me was forced to promise her nephew she wouldn't poop in the Bounce House. Vacation Me was a liar.  Don't tell the bossy three year old.  

Grey Tank Top

Best buddies

At my old job, there was a girl who could remember people’s outfits. She would recall that you wore a pair of pants last Tuesday, or that cardigan a month ago.

Which for me was no good since I am notorious (??) for recycling outfits. And by recycling, I mean wearing the exact same thing on Monday that I do on Sunday. And in less clean news, I recycle jeans for days.

This type of recycling (although noted by Outfitface McGee) was fine when I worked in a place that regularly had 2-3 people in hoodies and flip flops. But now that I am in a less casual work place, I have not been re-jeaning.

However, my old ways have snuck back in with my grey tank top. 

There is something about this tank. It is crazy soft and holds the sweetest scent of my perfume. It is like my second skin. Which takes on a whole new meaning now that I have been wearing it for five days. No lie.

Monday I wore the grey tank top under my shirt to add length to my outfit. Tuesday I was in a hurry, and grabbed that same tank to wear under my dress in order to cover my rare, but welcome bazoomba cleve. Wednesday, I decided to make a game out of it, and wore the tank again. Thursday came and I could not break my streak! Friday came, and could I do it? Could the tank and I go all the way? All signs point to yes.

My name is Robin, and I cannot refuse a self-perpetrated contest.


Done and done.