Top- Marc by Marc, Shorts- Levi Cutoffs, Belt- Vintage, Shoes- Sam Edelman, Bag- Wayuu Taya, Necklace- Hindu Prayer Pendant, Earrings- Free People, the usual jewelry
Due to some unbelievable magic pixie dust that jesus sprinkled on Joey's camera, we ended up with some really beautiful lens flares and rainbows and lighting. Which is cool, especially in the second photo since it looks like Zeus is throwing a spear at me from whatever cloud he currently hangs out at (god, I'm really mixing belief systems in this post, eh?).
So I'm sort of sitting here in a wordless stupor at the moment, probably due to my somewhat iffy decision to accompany Joey on his nightly outing to THE WORKOUT FROM HELL. And of course I don't own running shoes, so I wore my moccasins, and of course I don't own running shorts, so I wore these shiny hot pink American Apparel bullshits. The instructor was kinda a jerk to me, but then I see things from his eyes and it's like "who the hell is this girl in the blindingly pink shorts and MOCCASINS waltzing in here, then complaining that MY form is incorrect?!" Because ya, I totally did complain that his form was wrong. I take rowing machines seriously! I mean, rowing is like this gorgeous ballet on water, and he had these people attacking the machines like some (god, why do I want to say "violent hand job" right here?) uhhh fuck it, I dunno. The point is, you try and take the grace out of my favorite sport, I'm gonna call you on it. Even if I'm the new girl dressed like a Native American child prostitute.
Looks like the particular stupor in which I sit isn't exactly quite as wordless as I claimed. Big, huge surprise right there. I have a sneaking suspicion that absolutely nothing I just wrote made any sense. This is why I don't work out, people! It saps the brain right out of me. Just slurps it all away to repair my nonexistent muscles. I mean, that's how my body works.
Mein Gott, stopping NOW.