I have a dream.

Well, technically I HAD a dream. About Nicole Ritchie and Paris Hilton. And all I'm saying is they are terribly difficult to work for...

I woke up in hot sweat.

Then realized the AC in my apartment doesn't work. Let's discuss this. Most of the people in the world don't have air conditioning. And there are many, many places that are hotter than New England in the summer. And they probably don't complain. On the flip side, I pay for the privilege of having AC (and by pay, I mean, I paid 3 guys several hundred dollars to move my 200 boxes up three flights of stairs. Took them 7 hours. They'd be PISSED if they knew the AC didn't work after all of that.....) so is it so wrong to want it to work on the hottest day of the year? Can I get a verdict here? Thank GOD I'm not pregnant.

See? I'm not always bitter. I can totally find the silver lining in things.

Let's play a game. I'll call it the silver lining game.

Bad thing: Cold Stone was closed when HG and I decided we couldn't possibly live another moment without Birthday Cake Remix (him) and Cookie Doughn't You Want Some (me).

Silver Lining: There are 2. One, the staff at cold stone was spared my crankiness. This is a silver lining because it earns me karma points and doesn't disillusion the 12 year olds behind the counter with their first jobs. I mean, why clue them in to the cold hard reality that for the most part people suck. They have plenty of time to learn that lesson. And two, I was forced to drive to the grocery store for my ice cream fix where I settled on a package of Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches. (highly recommended. And a fat girl commendation is the highest award a food product can get. Especially when said fat girl is a full on food snob.)

Bad thing: These shorts.

What year is it???? 1985? Girls just wanna have fun! All I need are some torn fishnets, lace gloves, ankle boots, and an off the shoulder t-shirt. Oh wait. It could totally be this year. Scary. But for real, I think we can all agree that this particular style of shorts should.not. come in double digit sizes. Let's spare the world. Please.

Silver lining: We all got a good laugh. And they were still hanging on the rack in the store which means nobody was running around scaring small children. Or me for that matter.

See? Just call me Pollyanna. http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00005RRGB/dvdmg best movie ever)

While we're talking shorts, I'd like to offer some fashion advice to the ladies out there. If you have to button your pants UNDER your belly, they don't fit. Just size up. Plus sizes aren't scary. Nobody likes the idea of having to shop in **those stores** but, trust me. It's better than the alternative. Also, if your cellulite dimples (yes, we all have them. Even my size zero sister)are visible through your jeans, your jeans are too small. I hope HG runs for President someday. My mission as first lady will be "A Cosmo and mirror for all the women in America!" Because while it's not necessary to be a fashion plate, you should at least wear clothes that fit. And if you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for me. I lose karma points every time you walk by.

As snarky as I am and even though I joke about karma points, I really do try to be a good person. HG and I tithe 10% of our income every month. I often go out of my way to help people in little ways. I honestly cry for homeless people and will usually buy food and/or give them money. I love animals, babies, and the elderly. I mean, no, I'm not Mother Theresa. And I could certainly give more freely of my time, but really, I try to be a good person. I try to be responsible, hard working, loving and mature (Ok, I made that last one up). Just to clarify. In case you were wondering.

Why the clarification? The HG came in, read my blog and said "Hey, bitter much?" Um. Yeah. "Bitter is the New Black". It goes with just about everything.

(PS: Camel Toe is not a fashion statement you should make.)