In which I talk about my ass.

You have been warned.

Yesterday, I bought a skirt. This might not seem like a noteworthy thing, but the last time I wore a skirt of any kind was my grandmother's funeral back in June 2006. Before that? God only knows.

Tonight, I plan to wear that skirt. Out. In public. This thought terrifies me. I don't wear skirts because I have a very firm notion in my mind that fat, ugly women do not wear skirts. Full stop. Some fat women can. Some ugly women can. But, if you are the perfect storm of fat and ugly that I am, you do not. Simple, easy to follow rule.

Rule that I am breaking, and I have no idea why. I was in the store last night trying to find a pair of dress slacks to wear to the party tonight and on my way to the fitting room, I just snagged a skirt off a display. I assumed that a) it wouldn't fit (obviously) and b) even if it did, it wouldn't work with the top I picked out. Only, the slacks didn't fit, but she skirt did. And it matched the top.

If you look at me from the front, while I'm wearing a skirt, I look fine. A little chunky and not exactly 'fetching', but not hideous. It's the profile view that gets me. My ass sticks out like one of those old fashioned bustles on antique dresses. Only mine's all fleshy and has no support wires. I am not built to wear girly shit. I've occasionally thought to myself that I should have been born a guy, because I just make a butt ugly woman.

What the hell was I thinking, buying this?

God, I hope there will be alcohol at this party.