Freaky Friday

This morning, as I departing from Beacon Hill, I dropped the infamous words to two boys that I adore in homage to Freaky Friday: Make Good Choices. Yes, I said it mainly because one boy, whom I particularly adore, made some bad choices last evening that endured some minor consequences. As I left this morning, one of the boys retorted: “Marisa, you never make bad choices.” Therefore, I intend on dedicating this blog to all the poor choices I have made.

Leggings or tights? This quandary will always haunt me in the winter months because I inexplicably chose the wrong accoutrement*. Cold feet? Tights? Tights with leggings? …or the alternative, which I shamefully have turned to in recent lights; shoving socks into my flats causing me to like Scarlet Johanson’s interview outfit in The Nanny Diaries (yikes).

Moving to Boston? Just kidding.

Following Atkins sophomore year of college. Needless to say that obviously didn’t work. Although that liquid breakfast and lunch diet did the summer before...hmm…

Not living in Paris (yet).

Not caring more about my hair, although I am working on this.

Not getting more into Project Runway.

Celebrity gossip blogs. Although, to this day, I have never once bought People Magazine or Us Weekly.

Casually following Britney’s life disasters.

Two buck chuck.

Houstons.

Refusing to watch most sporting events, essentially cutting ties with the outside world.

Lipton’s onion dip.