First things first: THANK YOU to everyone who chimed in on the new look here at Rachelskirts.com. I'm blushing! Y'all are too kind.
Secondly, I've been chided for not ever telling you what the Gilmore Girls quote was in this entry. As the first two ladies guessed, it was the "hunky, hunky boyfriend" line. Great episode from season two, featuring Lorelai and Rory's adventures in a terrifyingly cutesy bed-and-breakfast. Watch it.
And now on to the real story:
I recently took a week-long vacation to Texas to see some of my good friends graduate. As I was packing my bags, I came to the unsettling realization that I have become one of those "pink people." It's not exactly the newest of news; I'd seen this day coming for a while. However, the bulk of my pink possessions seem to be related to travel:
SEND HELP. (And a microfiber cloth for that slightly filthy laptop and seriously gross iPhone.)
I was literally so freaked out by the blatant colorism (like racism; work with me here) at my feet that I actually had second thoughts about getting on the flight the next day. I could not imagine what an entire dorm floor's worth of guys would have to say when I showed up with my frilly ways so garrishly on display. I was a living, breathing manifestation of the toy store's Barbie aisle. You know the one.
It took less than a day for someone to muster the courage to call me out on this unhealthy obsession. I was flustered, but I remained good-natured. The boys teased me a bit, but by the end of the week, I was comfortably wearing my pink sweatpants around a friend's apartment during breakfast with the group. We had all come to accept this new element of my insanity.
But a week later, I woke up in my own bed (on pink sheets) with a groan-inducing development to the story. That's right — PINKEYE.
Kill me quickly.