What's your instinct reaction when you hear the words "summer suits," "bathing-suit shopping" or "bikini"?

A) "Oh, lovely, is it summer already? Now I can go purchase my favorite brightly colored string bikini that hangs about ninety percent off my perfectly toned ass and traipse luxuriously around my private beach, pina colada in hand, designer sunglasses perched firmly on my coiffed head with deliciously toned, tanned Boys Of Summer following me around like puppy dogs in manner of Victoria's Secret Swimwear ad, stretching my six-miles-long legs and applying shimmer body lotion to my already tanned skin. God, I love myself sometimes, I really do."

B) "WHAAAAAT? CRAP! Didn't I JUST bloody go swimsuit shopping? Every year, no sooner do I escape into the anonymous burrows of winter and hide myself in layers upon layers does the stupid shiny sun pop up again and I'm forced to go desperately from store to store, miserably catapulting myself into tiny, embarassing bathing suits that only serve to make me look oddly chubby, pale and deformed whilst whippet-thin saleswomen smirk behind their talons and offer pityingly to "get me the next size up" in a just-between-us-girls, I-promise-I-won't-tell-anyone-you're-such-a-fatty tone until I just want to crack something over their heads and shriek, "I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! I AM A HUMAN BEEEIIIIING!" But the sad thing is, I can't even blame the saleswomen for my deficiencies. Who can I blame? Myself? No, never. I know! NUTELLA!"

I'm probably just a tad closer to B than A. Lately, though, I've been wishing there was a C, a middle ground, a "Yes, I am not the size of a golf pencil, but I am also not grossly obese and wish to purchase a swimsuit that makes me resemble neither this
nor this

but simply a normal-shaped person." Not that it's not normal to be fat or thin, I hate when people are all "Skinny women are not really women, but rather female impersonators, because REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES." Curves are a lovely thing to have, but just because you don't have them doesn't make you any less of a woman.

Anywho, I was perusing my old friend the Internet in a quest to solve my little bathing-suit problem. It's very risky to purchase suits online, because more often than not when they arrive at your house they are either mammoth or minuscule and you spent about three hours either trying to bolster yourself in or fasten them around you without falling off. But I was just using the 'Net (look how hip I am! I shortened the word Internet! I know, I'm totally wild, aren't I?) as a jumping-off point and here are the sort of things that appealed to me.

^This, as you may be able to tell, is the category of bathing suits that are monochromatic (mostly) but hopefully not dull. I especially like the peacock-feathered one because it just seems awesome, the polka-dot 1980s vintage one, the white vintage Retrodress pinup one, and the white Marilyn-Monroe-esque "swim dress". Oh, and the zebra-striped one. The first, semiboring one really just looks like it would look good on. The last one is from Shopbop, by some expensive designer, and costs about a hundred million dollars for basically a few strips of waterproof fabric, but it's nice, you have to admit.

^Pretty colors! I love all these suits, in large part because they look like they would actually stay ON. I hate when bathing suits that are supposedly one-piece end up totally going up your butt, as if the masochist, evil designers are sending the message to all the Type-A, perfect-body girls- "Yeah, we had to say that these suits are built for "a curvier physique", but don't worry, they end up showing off your entire booty anyway." I am just not the kind of girl who can get away with that- I need all my bottoms to stay firmly on. And tops as well- nobody likes a nip slip. The first and last suits are from Anna&Boy, this incredibly funky swimwear line- Google them, they're worth checking out. The second and fourth suits are from Retrodress, and aren't they sweet? Particularly the second one? Actually, I can't decide which one I like better, 2 or 4. The third one is from vintagevixen.com and is just UNBELIEVABLY PERFECT, I covet it with every fiber of my being. And I do not say that lightly, the last time I did was when I was watching Batman Begins with friends and sighed lustily, "I want Christian Bale with every fiber of my being, I wish I could bear his children, do we have any more disgusting fattening food around here?"

^All right, I know there are two-piece junkies out there, so here you go, feast yourselves. I like the first one- it's not really my style, as I have no need for athletic swimwear (you know those lovely active girls at the beach who are always organizing marathon games of volleyball and gigglingly tackling adorable collegiate boys like they're in a Playtex ad? Yeah, so deeply not me. I'm usually laying out in some ratty vintage caftan and big shades, checking out the hot lifeguard and pretending to read.), but it's cute for the sporty chicks.
The sea foam green Shopbop bikini is pretty. And kind of bland, but nice. It's hard to find really distinctive swimwear. The last three are all from Raisins and reasonably cute- I especially like the last one, it's got this great decal on the bottom back and the top that you probably can't see very well in that small picture, but it's adorable.

^God, I love sunglasses. I just want to collect them, like a crazed butterfly collector collects...er...butterflies. I lost my favorite pair recently, so I'm on the prowl for a new one, considering that all my other backup pairs are broken and my all-time FAVORITE real Chanel shades that I saved up for for approximately my entire LIFE have been residing at the bottom of some lake in Pennsylvania since last summer. True and long story involving rafting and a particularly brisk wind...and my sheer, utter, unfathomable stupidity. But anyway. The second-to-last ones...sparkly cat's-eye glasses make me smile and think of librarians and times gone by. And the T-shirt- I feel like I would just wear it around town giggling to myself, "You think these sunglasses on my shirt are real. But they're FAKE! I'm PSYCHING YOU OUT! I'm pulling your leg! THEY'RE NOT THERE! THEY'RE AN ILLUSION! CLAP IF YOU BELIEVE!" On second thought, maybe it's not wise to give me, a person so clearly straddling the fence of total insanity, a device for excessive craziness like that tee. It's cool, though, right?

^I'm mentally matching these crazily awesome summer-themed earrings to the sunglasses and swimsuits already. I would wear the luau-themed ones in the middle with the cat's-eye shades for a very Gidget Goes Hawaiian feel. The pink feather drop earrings would be amazing with the pink sunglasses and maybe a Basic Black Bathing Suit. The peacock feather ones? All I know is that I would never, EVER wear them with the peacock suit. Too much matching makes me want to cry and then go beat up Avril Lavigne for a while (my cure for everything). The first ones would kind of go with everything and nothing, simultaneously. And I can't even talk about the last, completely amazing ones- it would be like wearing Carmen Miranda's head on your ears.

^I know those things were kind of random. But I really wanted to throw in that Diane von Furstenburg beach towel- dude, if your TOWELS are designer you've got it made- and the Oleg Cassini vintage "beach jacket." I beg you, kids, HAVE AN OPEN MIND. I know at first glance it's Le Fug, but the facts remain that a) it is an Oleg Cassini vintage beach jacket, whatever the eff that is, and b) it is kind of awesome, if you picture it unbuttoned over some awesome suit and huge vintage-y shades. Whatever, I love it. The last thing is just an Urban Outfitters tube dress that I think is cool to throw over a suit. That's the nice thing about tube dresses, they're good for getting dressed on the run- even though I rarely wear them because if you are not flat as the proverbial board they do weird things to your chest.

So, enjoy those little pieces of lovely. They should aid the transition into summer nicely for kids who, like myself, fare better (fashion-wise, at least) in winter. I mean, I love summer and all, but it feels like there's this constant pressure to be all thin and happy all the time, which is an alien concept to my pale, snarky self. Bitchy contrarian that I am, the other day I bought like four pairs of opaque tights on a day when everyone else in the store was buying sunglasses. I'm like the Grinch Who Stole Summer. I do like warm weather, though, and no school. Oy, school...I've been so buried under essays and papers and finals-studying and trying to write a decent grad speech for my class, along with being in charge of the Reunion page for the yearbook- don't judge me, it's FUN and I get to be as bitchy and witty as I like- well, witty in my own head, which...EVERYTHING is funny to me. I'm kind of an idiot- working at Cool Vintage Store, attempting to go to the gym...er...well, THINKING about going to the gym, anyway (I find that's the best part of having a gym membership, the way you can just slip it into conversation, like "Oh, yeah, I'm going to work out tonight", because it's not like the person you're talking to knows that the staff at NYSC actually E-MAILED YOU asking why you never show up. Needy much? Because I was BUSY, assholes. Well, more like lazy, but the point still stands. I think.) and all the rest of it that I've been neglecting my corner of Blog Village. A thousand times sorry! I will now prostrate myself at the feet of the blogging community and beg pardon.
Can I get up now?
Thank you.
So I was reading New York magazine today...it might have been an old issue, I don't know...and splat-bang, what do I find but a little article on the world's most fascinating subject...SOCIALITES! I swear to you, usually I will gorge on any gossipy trash story in any paper and hate myself for it later, but I had to put down the magazine because I was bored into a stupor after the first six words. Now, I bitch about real celebrities a lot but the fact is that obviously I am INTERESTED in their lives, at least in the "Hey look, a car crash!" way, but honestly...I don't know any socialites so I can't make this judgment that they are all pure undiluted evil, but Christ almighty. If I hear the words "Olivia Palermo" or, God save me, "Tinsley Mortimer" one more time I am going to CUT A BITCH. Well, not really. But doesn't that make me sound intimidating?
Really, when I read the endless streams of crap about this Muffy and that Gigi attending so-and-so's oh-so-marvelous luncheon at Generic Million-Dollar Restaurant- wait, no, it's never referred to as something so gauche as a restaurant, it's always a "hot spot" or an "eatery" (what the hell is an EATERY? Is the place where I go to get my pain au chocolat-or three- and coffee in the morning a...oh, wait. I'm an idiot. It IS a bakery. But is the place where I go to buy lipstick called a MAKEUPPERY? Is the place where I go to look at little baby puppies-aw! I love animals, when I don't have to clean up for them, I'm too self-involved for that- called a DOGGERY? No. So there's no need to be so pretentious.)- it makes me want to punch a wall. Being preppy is one thing, but...oye. Trust me, no matter what course my life takes, I don't think you will ever find me in a neat little satin headband and pearls, doing the lady-who-lunches thing with a million blond nanny-raised children all decked out in Bonpoint.

After graduation, all my school shirts are going in the trash bins. I understand the polo shirt thing, if that's your look...but it is just not mine. As God as my witness, I'll never go Lacoste again!

I have a question. Who thought, "Hmm. What's sexy, what's sexy...not Paris Hilton, that's been done,-and how-not bowling-alley prostitutes, not salsa dancers...I know. GRANDMOTHERS. Brilliant."?

Now, see, these amuse me. I probably wouldn't wear them, but they amuse me. Besides, if I wore these to school with my regulation polo I would look ridiculous, like I'd found them in a store and mistaken the skulls for little preppy hearts and decided they would go just swimmingly with my Lacostes.

If you have not seen Tea Partay yet...oh God. I both pity and envy you. Just go to youtube and type in "Tea Partay." Thank me later. Maybe with a bouquet of roses? And a Cadbury Crunchie? Those things are damn good, y'all. I wish I could live in a giant hot tub full of them.

Okay, I don't know why either, but it makes me happy. So ignore the randomosity and just love it for what it is.
I don't mean to sound condescending here...I'll probably be some weird "satirical avant-gardist" or something like that, playing the guitar for chump change at shitty bars- and not making any money, because I suck-and accompanying myself on the electric kazoo or something. And I'll send lots of angry letters about the fractured state of our society to the New York Times under an assumed name, and I'll keep cats. Not just have cats- KEEP cats. There's a difference, as any self-respecting crazy cat lady will tell you.

TV CORNER- I'm sad because 30 Rock is over until next year. Hey, at least it got picked up for a second season, unlike Studio 60! I can't believe I haven't found a likeminded 30 Rock lover in the blog world. It's HILARIOUS, people. So many good throwaway lines...to quote Liz Lemon, "I'm going to go talk to some food about this." Just watched ANTM, and all I can say is...to quote Dionne (byebye, Dionne. I used to like you a lot but...whatever, I'm not too torn up), "What the HAYELL?" Okay, when has Natasha ever been anything but nice? Maybe she's a crazy Russian mail order bride who nuzzles phones, but she's a sweet girl and she did NOT deserve all that shit the others foisted upon her. I'd like to say that's not how women really are, but...I think everyone's been in that situation, of having girls band against you for no reason. I love Nata! Shut up. It's possible that I just feel kind of connected to her because I'm part Russian and speak Russian fluently(unlike my waning skills in Italian, I still remember how) and can actually understand her, but whatever. She's funny! And me likey humor. Oh, and can we talk about the Aboriginal dance challenge? I was laughing so hard that I spilled my water, and then choked on a sip of it for like four hours. Worth it.

THERE WILL BE NO BACK TALK ABOUT NATIZZLE. She OWNS.
SIGHTINGS- Really cute guy in my doctor's office. Thankfully, he was NOT wearing khakis- the preppy spell is BROKEN! For now, anyway. We made some pretty sizzling eye contact and I would've gone over to talk to him, but the doctor called my name. Besides, what if he was there to treat his nasty case of herpes or something? Also, on 40th street the other day...or somewhere like that. God, I should know New York better, but it was a place with office buildings- the best-dressed woman in the city was hailing a cab. For real, she was one of those hardcore women who are not afraid to wear fifteen thousand-inch stilettos and rock them proudly with a feminine/firm business suit. Oh my God, I sound like Tyra. When I'm trying to describe something, I like to go to the inner Tyra Mail monologue running through my head...you know,how she always sounds so hilariously dramatic and retarded (not necessarily in that order) on the little Tyra Mail cards. Like, if all the girls are hanging out at the house bitching at each other, Tyra wouldn't just say, "Bitches hate each other", oh no, no, no. She'd say, "Get ready to sharpen your claws on the diva runway! Meow! Catfight!" Or something else reminiscent of a drag queen/ cat fashion show. I don't know.

CURRENT ATTIRE- My nice jeans and pretty pumps with a slobby white tank top encrusted with bits of rice- I was wearing the shirt during dinner, and now I'm trying to decide if I should go out, and remove the tank top and put on a decent shirt. Nah, I'll just hang here in my usual post-ANTM comatose state, sitting out on my fire escape in fugly clothing, maybe listen to some Arcade Fire. And definitely stuff my face a lot. God, I love Dulce de Leche. I mean really, I do.

Hasta la vista, babies.