I have no idea why the guilt of purchasing something not fitting for me bugs me like no other things.

Maybe because I have always been quite *cough* cautious with my spending, so when I finally part with my moolah, and if the purchase is not justified I tend to weigh on hard on myself.

Like, I will chide myself for not exercising more self control.

I have decided not to get the toga dress (kinda) after the reviews of BonitoChico’s backorder products tend to be a lil bit more disappointing and the sizing tend not to follow closely as stated.

But somehow, I am just happy to find worthy owners for the pieces that don’t fit me so that they will finally have some one to do them justice!

My guilt is greatly alleviated hehehe. And thankfully for them, at least I don’t get stuck with 2 pieces of garments I probably ain’t gonna wear ever again.

I tried emailing the seller, but apparently what was originally helpful replies became totally redundant when I was just told that there is no refund despite the measurement didn’t turn out as stated. Strangely someone else did get a refund.

So I got tired of the ping-ponging, and when I reflected the inconsistency in sizing, instead of assuring the quality, I was told to get an M next time.

Bah.

Then too big I also have to spend moolah to alter hor? I lazzzzyyyyy!

Not much news today to update.

Except that after dinner with Jiali at Miss Clarity after poledancing class, I headed home and found a twirl-able pole at the playground and I did a bit of practise before going home satisfied.

Wahahahaha.

If you were my neighbour and saw some ghostly figure right outside your windows doing her THANG on the pole at the playground, please do not mistaken it to be me. Ahem.

My sweaty palms are great barriers, and finally for a week, I managed to catch up a little despite the moist hands.

Am now trying to stretch my old bones so I can finally do some splits and acrobatics stunts that at this moment, seem beyond my means as long as I live. I am so stiff that I get cramps and pulls EVERYTIME I do warm up. And I cannot touch my toes. Wahahahaha.

But it got better than the muscle aches on Tuesdays are slowly subsiding, so are the bruises. Whee!

And who would have thought? The guy at the dance school is actually Lynn’s husband’s cousin who was at the wedding last week as well!

Speak about a tiny world.

Another Myer Briggs show that I am as INFP as it comes. I thought I could surprise myself, but haha, apparently I can’t.

Was speaking about people-management yesterday till wee hours in the morning. Some are attributed to people skills, some are just observed by others how you treat others at each level, some are just… how much people trust you.

Some just have it, some just don’t. And it is always the amount of respect you give, that earns you the respect given by others, but many often fail to see it that way.

It was thought-provoking, and perhaps pretty liberating.

***

In other news, my skin care/perfume basket was ransacked yesterday.

I was alerted by my mum that the spawn took a bottle of lotion and applied it to her face, lips and hair, perhaps learnt from the adults of the standard routine I started recently…. serum and moisturiser, remember?!

I was afraid the copycat would destroy everything like how she did (normally I can’t finish my skincare cos I will always forget to put, so the only way they deplete, is when the spawn sped up the process by cleaning the floor with them), so I carefully put the new bottles onto a high cabinet.

Basically, I close my doors when I head out.

Today, my mum asked me what this bottle of lotion was, and had said she had grabbed from the basket and did her beauty regime in it.

I cringed badly.

Right after the recent blush inducing discovery of the brr brr, Minibean has reached a new high.

Of all bottles…. it was a bottle of lube (!!!!!!!!)

I can only be thankful that it is not the widely recognised brand of Durex, or else I will die of embarrassment in front of mum.

Sometimes I really wonder, how on earth she manage to choose with impeccable accuracy of the item that would make me bite my nails uncomfortably in buckets of sheepish guilt.

Seriously?!