Celulite Liberation

I'm an old-fashioned girl. I don't wear skanky, crop-top shirts, I don't wear mini-skirts with less material than your average bandaid, I don't wear low-rise jeans that are two sized too small, thus causing one's lager-induced love handles to ooze out the top. I do sigh when I see these unfortunate young women on the street and think to myself, "Did you look in a mirror before you left the house? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?" Maybe it's my deeply burried, New England American puritanism leaking out, or maybe I just have good taste and a sense of decorum, but we all have imperfections, and part of looking your best is recognizing those imperfections and keeping them appropriately tucked away and out of sight. To this end, I make sure I cover up all the white, pastey, dimply, jiggly bits (and I've got a few) before I go out the front door.

Until now.

I would like to announce, with great gusto and enthusiasm, the purchase of my first ever bikini.
So why on god's green earth, with all my white, pastey, dimply, jiggly bits and my Puritan propiety, did I buy a BIKINI*?!? I'll tell you.

On September 10th I will be handing in to the University of Manchester a brilliant, ground-breaking dissertation (no, I'm not counting my komodo dragons before they're hatched, I'm thinking positively) which is the culmination of a year of ass-kicking (that's my ass being kicked) MA-level work. It has been one of the most academically challenging years of my life (I say 'one of' because portions of my BA degree were even scarier) and I'm celebrating with a 3-week trip to Europe, my first time on the continent. I'll be spending a week in a lakeside Italian resort town, then a week on the Spanish riviera, then stopping in Paris for a couple days on my way to Amsterdam to finally get laid (this whole trip is a series of firsts, so I figure why not go for the whole ball o' wax).

Ergo, I am liberating myself. I am completing the most ballsy endeavor I have ever undertaken. I am travelling alone to exotic destinations. I am sloughing off the shell of fear and cracking the carapace of insecurity. I am no longer allowing archaic, cultural mores to dictate my self-image. I am successful, I am fearless, I am a woman. I am wearing a bikini.