Greetings from a low humidity NYC. For the first time in weeks I can breathe while roaming around. I actually said YES aloud when I left my apartment this morning. The change in weather made this morning far less gnarly than it should have been. You see, last night I was tossing and turning in an attempt to scratch the 100 mosquito bites I have on my back. The flopping around proved futile as these bites are completely unreachable. Le sigh.
Here is my weekend in pictures. Tons of laughter and even more sweat. On Saturday temperatures soared over 100 degrees. Luckily the ocean was a mere 72 degrees providing relief. Oh and I also realized how far I've come since 23. I heard the single most disgusting comment I’ve heard in years while on the beach Saturday afternoon. It was epic. 23 year-old boys are pervs.
I’ve decided that the above dress is THE dress of this summer. Thirty dollars well spent if you ask me.
Typical Mara/Shanna ridiculousness. The blue maxi dress I’m wearing above is Mara’s and came in handy when I forgot my white pants this weekend leaving me with only one dress. Yes, I forgot pants. No, I’m usually that absent-minded. Shit happens. But then again awesome things happen as well. Like when the five people you’re staying with let you try on every single piece of their clothing until you find something that fits. So thanks Blue Waters girls…it meant the world to me.
The dude in this picture claims the headband was a “conversation piece”. Clearly it worked because he was surrounded by my gorgeous friends all evening long.
So five brunettes walk into a bar…
I must say, this dress has been the love of my life this summer. Sartorially speaking this is wonderful. Realistically speaking it’s a little pathetic.
Don’t ask about the braids. Let’s focus on the statement necklace instead. I got it on the street in Chelsea with JV. I may have forgotten my pants, but I BROUGHT the style, yo. Or something like that.
It’s also worth noting that only one slice of pizza was consumed this weekend and many calories were burned tearing up the dance floor. Just to be clear, tearing up the dance floor means jumping up and down for two hours until dripping in sweat.
Back to reality with lots of veggies and water and a lovely run this evening. Happy Monday blog friends :)