If there’s one thing I’m always down for, it’s an adventure. Unless it’s riding a city bus. That one – not so much. It may be economically sensible or good for the environment or whatever, but you have to draw the line somewhere when it comes to self-respect. No self-respecting toots can board a bus full of smelly strangers and expect to depart the same, disease-free woman. You may get where you’re going, but scabies will be going with you.

My favorite adventures usually involve carbs or cocktails – bottomless mimosa brunches being my absolute fav. One of these days, I would actually like to attend a bottomless mimosa brunch without my bottoms. (Of course, I would still wear a pair of super cute heels as to not look like a total nut.)
Maitre d’: “Just a minute there, madam. Where are your pants?”

Me: “At home. Table for two, please.”

Maitre d’: “I can’t let you in without your pants.”

Me:  “The sign says ‘Shoes & Shirt Required.’ I see no mention of pants. Now hurry up and get me that table. I’m cold.”

I mean, that would be so fun, right? What an adventure!

Of course, my table for two would actually be a table for one and I’d be the pant-less weirdo dining alone on the account of a technicality, but that’s what the mimosas are for – company. And what fabulous company they are.