I've been incredibly lazy since we got back from Vegas. I still kind of feel like someone should be paying me to walk around, shop, be fabulous, and eat a lot of food. And take prostitute cards from the 400 people on the strip shoving them in my face.
Vegas was awesome, and I can't wait to go back.* We briefly considered hiring a prostitute whose card advertised a $35 special, to come to our room and pack for us on the last night. Because hot damn if our feet weren't killing us! But the card was all the way across the room, and our feet hurt too bad to go get it to get the number.** Oh well.
So! Pregnant! Still! Unbelievable!
Here's me, in my bathing suit at our Vegas hotel room***, at 11 weeks:
Again, in the morning. To illustrate my point about the belly explosion that occurs once I eat, here are morning and night belly pics for 12 weeks:
Morning Shot. Clearly, a bump but not huge. The only offensive thing about this picture is the VISIBLE PANTY LINE...I am ashamed of myself. But my thongs are all too tight and I have no idea where to get industrial sized thongs to fit big pregnant asses. (I guess I should go back to Motherhood?)
Night Shot. Hot damn, girl! Is you havin twins? What are you, like 20 weeks?!
And more VPL. I am going to have to stop making fun of people with the VPL because I am one of them. Maybe I can start a new trend?
Hey everyone! It's sexy to be too fat for your thongs and be forced to switch to granny panties that you can see through your work pants! HOT and SEXY! And not at all disgusting and frumpy!
Anyway, I have a lot of other things to tell you about, but I'm done for tonight because I have a skull crushing migraine.
I've been tagged for, like, 5 different things in the past couple months, and haven't done any of them. So if you tagged me and I was a stuck up bitch about it, can you remind me? I'll do them, I swearz.
*We can never go back, because daycare is $700/month, because I'm not sure if you heard, but apparently babies are really fucking EXPENSIVE.
** I promise. We didn't call a hooker, and we wouldn't. I think you'd probably catch the clap just by breathing the same air. And also? Breasts make me really uncomfortable.
***The Paris, I loved it.