Classy is my middle name

There is, in my town, a gated community.  A very nice gated community. With guards, and "estates."  It holds the type of houses where I imagine that people dress for dinner.  The kind of places where the pool house out back is bigger than my first apartment.  The kind of neighborhood where the Gilmore's would live (Richard and Emily obviously...Lorelai wouldn't be caught dead there) It's one of those neighborhoods that get made fun of for being snotty and stuck up (and let's be honest....parts of it probably are).

But I have friends that live in the (still very nice) but un-snotty part of the neighborhood.  And when I visit them, as I often do, I am usually conscious of the bevy of (very nice) cars going by me in the residents lane while I idle in the visitors lane waiting for another lawn-care truck to get waved through by the guard of the hour.

And often as I sit, I become aware of the fact that my car is old, and dirty, and has a pile of discarded Starbucks cups and empty diet coke cans on the floor of the backseat. And I wonder if the guard is secretly judging me for not living up to the Gated Community standards.

Still I don't spend a lot of time worrying about it (time that could be better used playing reruns of  the Gilmore Girls in my head).  And, since I'm generally such a classy person, I feel fairly certain that I belong in that particular neighborhood (or at least my friends house).

But then on Friday, I pulled up to the gate around 8:00pm to let the dog out and check the mail, already in my pajamas (sans bra), missing one hubcap, with a piece of pie on a paper plate on the passenger seat and a Styrofoam cup full of cool whip in the cup holder I thought..."way to keep it classy Keener"

And also,  this place may be a bit out of my league (I'm way more Lorelai than Emily anyway)

How do I not own this?

There are a few things you should know about me....

First, I'm pretty much always cold.

Second, I dig crafting. 

Knowing this one would think that I would be the proud owner of a Snuggie (Hello?  A blanket with sleeves....GENIUS).  I could be warm and craft, or read, or play on the computer without having to readjust the blanket to keep me snuggly (OMG do you think that's where they got the name?).  I have a plethora of blankets, fleece, wool, big, small, electric, and old fashioned, but I don't own a Snuggie. Which is sad, but I've been able to muddle through life just fine without one thank-you-very-much.

Last week I found myself flipping through one of the approximately 10 million catalogs that have arrived in the mail this month and I came across that can only be described as the GREATEST. SNUGGIE. EVER.

But before you can fully appreciate how completely amazing this particular Snuggie is, you have to know one more thing about me...

Once upon a time it was my dream to be Wonder Woman.  Seriously.  She is clearly awesome.  I spent a good deal of time running around in my Wonder Woman underroos pretending to be her.  And so you must understand that when I saw an ad for this

I was immediately transported back to a childhood spent running around our apartment in this...

And it became abundantly clear that THIS Snuggie was made for me!!! (for real yo, I want it)!!