CosmOh Crap...

One of the things I like and hate equally about myself is how inconsistent I am when it comes to making decisions. It's like always a constant surprise to me whether I'll make a good, mature decision or a very heinous one that makes me a bad person. Like, sometimes I'm like "OMG, Pharon. You just separated your laundry and used that bleach stuff without burning the apartment building down AND before you had to start wearing long underwear as pants. Good for you, ya big grown up!" [Pats self on back.]

And then there are times I'm like "OMG, why did you spend $30 on colored hair extensions at Claire's? What the hell was that about?!"

So it's kind of fun. I'm all "Whoa, what am I going to do next?" And if I'm being honest, I've been pleasantly surprised lately. Like, one time last week, I watched the news instead of a Family Guy rerun. Yeah. Where do I sign up for my big girl pants?

But then I go ahead and ruin my adult streak. Today I was doing a very responsible job of getting groceries before I actually NEEDED them and was strolling through Target. First shocker was the fact that I picked up a bottle of body wash. But not like the girly, fruity stuff I usually get. I picked up a bottle of this Age Defying crap that I decided I needed in a moment of Grown Upness. Then I got fruit and some nice olive oil and other things that mature people get and was in line checking out and being very proud of myself. 

But then I got home and pulled this out of a shopping bag:

UH. PHARON. REALLY? COSMO? [Punches self in face.] I was doing so well before this moronic decision made its way into my life. There is absolutely NO REASON I should have picked up this magazine. "Bikini confessions"? "What guys don't tell you and why"? Stupid. So, so stupid. 

But there I was, on my sofa, reading an entire issue of Cosmo like it was something that WASN'T terrible. I don't even know why! See, if you've read probably 6 issues of Cosmo ever in your lifetime, you've pretty much already read everything they'll ever print in that rag. Every story is essentially the same. Every horoscope is as predictable as a Taylor Swift relationship. Every page is full of both messages of female empowerment and anorexic models with 6-foot long legs. It's just the worst.

But it's also just very good. Like when girls wear giant underwear. We hope no one sees us doing it, but it just feels so comfy. 

I read the whole stupid magazine and at the end, I felt like I had just eaten 12 bagels with my brain. It was all mushy and warm and full of stuff, none of which is good for me. But so yummy.

In the grand scheme of things, I suppose it's not that big of a deal that I bought a crappy magazine. It's not like I bought Highlights or something. But it was still a little disappointing knowing that the same chick who bought wrinkle-preventing body wash also picked up a magazine that is arguably for slightly skanky teens and co-eds. On the other hand, I now know about 400 products with SPF that I simply MUST have for the summer under $20. That's thrifty AND responsible. You know who's thrifty and responsible? GROWN UPS. Yay! And just like that, I'm back on top!