Crazy ShoeLady

Tell me, has this ever happened to you (or am I the only one):

Have you ever gone to the store, tried on a pair of jeans and then stared at yourself in the mirror for 20 minutes?  As everyone knows, perfect jeans are especially difficult to find, so don’t worry about the fitting room attendant who keeps banging on the door asking if you are ok in there.  It’s important that you consider every aspect of how it looks on you.   (check all that apply)

1. Check the price. (Cuz if it’s too much, it’s not even worth trying it on and then crying when they fit perfectly and can’t afford it.) Check.

2. Perfect medium tone wash (great for casual days at work or a night out on the town. (Yeah, right! Like I get nights out on the town anymore!). Check.  

3. Cute design on the back pockets (no, they’re not Levi’s!). Check.

4. Back pockets not too big (doesn’t make my butt look big-well any bigger than it already is!)  Check.

5. Not too baggy in the thighs, but not too tight (tight enough to keep them from rubbing against each other when I walk). Check.

6. Doesn’t bunch up weird when I sit down and cross my legs. (I hate it when I buy a pair of pants and I forget to check that!) Check.

7. Perfect mid-waist rise; right on the hip bone, 4 inches below my belly button (just low enough not to accentuate the post-pregnancy fat tire around my tummy but not so low that my granny panties are sticking out. Face it, I’m getting old!) Check.

8. Reminds me when I was the hottest girl in school and I had a never-ending entourage of boys begging me for dates (yeah, in my dreams!) Check.

9. Makes me feel 10 years younger and 30 pounds lighter (wishful thinking!). Check.

10. Makes me look 10 years younger and 30 pounds lighter (Ok, now I’m just getting delusional!)

And then you think to yourself:

“These are the most perfect jeans ever!” You conclude that if you don’t buy these today, you will regret it for the rest of your life. When you arrive home, you pull your perfect find out of the shopping bag and brag about them to anyone who will listen (even if it’s just the dog). And then of course you have to put them on again and stare at yourself for another 20 minutes, just to confirm that Yup, they’re still perfect.

However, inevitably, after you remove all the tags and stickers, run it through the wash (who washes brand new jeans?) and then wear them for one whole day (meaning you can’t return them anymore) the flaws show their ugly faces. You realize you didn’t check everything. You remember when you originally tried them on, you were barefoot. When you wear them with flats or flip-flops, they drag on the floor or through the mud after a torrential rain storm and no matter how much you wash them, you just can’t get that muddy rainwater smell out of them.

Then, by the end of the day, they’ve stretched out so much around the waist that you look like one of those skater dudes with his pants hanging down past his boxers. So you get out the belt, but you only have a brown belt that fits right now, so you can only wear your old brown boots and not your sexy black pumps that would go oh so great with those jeans.

With a tear in your eye, you fold up your not so perfect jeans and stack them up on the shelf where they will remain with 50 other pairs of jeans that did not stand the test of time. And then you head back to the department store to do it all over again.

The Samurai’s Garden: A Novel by Gail Tsukiyama tells a tale of beauty, hope and discovery. Just as Japan invaded China prior to the outbreak of World War II, a young Chinese man, Stephen, reluctantly travels to his family’s vacation home in Tarumi, Japan to recover from tuberculosis. During his convalescence, Stephen expects his “time in Tarumi will be a quiet resembling death…”, his only company a quiet and isolated elderly servant, Matsu. As Matsu and Stephen arrive at the beach house, Stephen finds himself in an intoxicating, secluded garden still filled with summer blossoms. The gardens in this novel symbolize the journeys that each character must face.

During the year that Stephen resides in Tarumi, he records his experiences through journal entries. Through this perspective, the traumatic and touching story of Matsu and Sachi unfolds. Stephen discovers that Matsu has spent much of his life tending the garden at the beach house. Matsu chose a life of isolation, finding solace in solitude.

But secretly he has also been caring for a childhood friend, Sachi, who had contracted leprosy as a young girl and fled to a leper village in the mountains above Tarumi. Matsu reconnected her with life, love and beauty. She learned to live with her disease, to accept her isolation, and to open her heart again. Matsu taught Sachi “that beauty exists where you least expect to find it” and she learned that he “has always known where beauty comes from”. I found myself captivated by Sachi’s life of loss and love but only getting a glimpse into her story.

However, Stephen’s story fails to entice the reader; his relationships are one-dimensional, predictable and uninteresting. He has a short-lived relationship with a young Japanese girl that begins and ends without explanation. I felt no emotional connection to his depicted loneliness and loss, the pain he felt as the Japanese army rampaged across his homeland or the betrayal he felt when he learned of his father’s 12 year affair.

Overall, I did enjoy The Samurai’s Garden, even through it’s faults. The beautiful garden imagery permeates the stories of each character. Matsu tenderly nurtures and cares for the garden just as he cares for Sachi and Stephen. Sachi learns that beauty is not only found in outward appearances and cannot be lost when you find it inside of you. And Stephen finds strength through service and hard work.

I would recommend this book.

I’m mean, I’m green, I ‘m a flying machine, and I AM WICKED!!!!

We had tickets to Wicked last night at the beautiful Denver Center for the Performing Arts. 3rd…row…seats!!! We went the last time they were here as well, 3 years ago.  I was impressed then, but we were WAAAAAAY in the back that time. Last night was a whole new experience. You could see the sweat droplets we were so close. And the microphones on their foreheads, that was weird.

I had mostly forgotten the details of the storyline so it was like seeing it new all over again. I mostly remembered that the Wicked Witch of the West was misunderstood and not really as evil as everyone thought she was. The wonderful wizard of OZ was conniving and deceitful. And Galinda was selfish and vain. But then, Glinda came to her senses and sided with the good side, the Wicked Witch of the West. And then there was the Scarecrow, what a hunk! But for those of you who don’t know the story, I won’t spoil it for you! Just go see it. It’s Wicked!

Elphaba, otherwise known as the Wicked Witch of The West, was played by the Standby. (There was also an understudy, so I guess she was the understudy for the understudy?) But who cares, she was phenomenal. When she hit the big finale at the end of “Defying Gravity”, I got goosebumps. The hubby said there was a tear forming in his eye, and coming from him, that’s saying a lot. (He didn’t even cry when our baby girl was born, even under threat from his wife!)

And GaaLinda was hilarious as ever, and oh so popuoohlahr. Oh…and perky.  And blonde. So blonde. (What did the blonde say when she walked into a bar? Ouch! That hurt.  hahahahahaha    What….not funny?)

I enjoyed my night out. It’ll probably be my last real date for quite a while. Stupid job. Stupid bank account. Why can’t money really grow on trees? I promise I won’t take more than I really need. And the occasional shopping spree. Please? Pretty please? Oh and some new boots? I really need new boots!

So I only worked 1 day last week. We got hit by a pretty big snowstorm last Wednesday. By the time we woke up in the morning the roads were terrible. But of course, it still took convincing for me to stay home. Why did I need convincing? Oh, yeah, no workie, no money! You would think living in CO we’d be used to the snow.

What people don’t know is, CO is the best kept secret in the country. Elsewhere in the country people think we are trudging through snow 9 months out of the year, but that just ain’t true. Before we left Maryland when I was 13 years old, we were warned that CO was always freezing and snowing. I was dreading it. When we arrived here, I learned the truth.

CO has over 300 days a year with barely a cloud in the sky. It hits 50 and 60 degrees multiple times during the winter. Kids wear shorts to school in January. Don’t get me wrong, we still get snow….in the mountains. People really do move here just for the skiing. So aside from the occasional (and by occasional I mean every 3-5 years) blizzard, a foot and a half of snow is a pretty big storm.

But I’m not a skier, really. A snowstorm hits and I think MOVIE DAY! Not “Let’s hit the SLOPES!” So that’s what we did. Watched movies and Netflix instant plays. It was an extended weekend of nostalgia. We watched the new Transformers Revenge of the Fallen on blu-ray (yes, it is better on blu-ray, at least that’s what my husband tried to convince me since he went to see it without me), which is based on a childhood cartoon we always watched. Then we watched the first two episodes of Airwolf on instant play on Netflix. Tears welled up in my eyes when he was playing the cello at the end, mourning the loss of his girlfriend, who he apparently only knew one week! Ahh TV romances. 

Then there was a V marathon on Syfy. Anyone remember that miniseries, which apparently they are re-creating?! My only memory of that show was the green alien baby that climbed out of its human mother when she was giving birth. Ewwwww! It was just as gross this time around.

And wow, those special effects. (Yes, I’m being sarcastic!)

I don’t think they made any technological advances in the 80s. They were so laughable! Nowadays we expect everything to look realistic. No, I’ve never seen an alien ship, but I have to believe that it really is hovering over a major city. The corny effects reminded me of the original Star Trek. (Hey, don’t make fun, I’m not a Trekkie, but I grew up with lots of boys who had sole power over the remote control!)

But, with the snow melting, I must pull myself out of the 80s and face the ugly real world, where I got my 30 day notice at work. So now I really need to get my b*** in gear to figure out how to make some real money to pay those pesky bills!

I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel.

I recently finished Sense and Sensibility, I’ve read Persuasion, and of course, I’ve seen the Hollywood movies of several others. And I really want to read Pride and Pejudice but haven’t had the chance yet. I’ve even seen a few of the A&E and BBC versions (does it seem to anyone else that the BBC just uses the same actors and actresses over and over again?). Every time I read a novel or watch a movie set in the 18th century, I wonder,”Was life really like that?” I mean, come on, all they seem to think about is getting married, drawing, parties, gossip and practicing on the pianoforte. And what do the men do for a living? So far, in my experience, you never find out where all their money comes from. I mean, what did Mr. Darcy do that earned him 10,000 pounds a year? And when they have sudden urgent business in the city, what are they going to the city to do?!

Don’t get me wrong, I still love the books and the movies (I could watch Kiera Knightley in Pride and Pejudice over and over, it’s such a beautiful story). I definitely love the clothes, the fashion, the liesurely lifestyle. And the parties. Oh the parties! I wish we had parties like that. And balls. When I was a teenager and on into my mid-late 20’s I went dancing. I love dancing. I really got into the swing dancing revival. I lived and breathed dancing. But now that I’m an old married lady with a baby (ok I’m only 34, but sometimes that feels old!), I don’t go out as much. You have to decide what to do in advance, find a babysitter, know what time you’re leaving and what time you’re coming back where we used to just come home from work and say ”Hey, you wanna go to a movie?”. I’m not very good at planning ahead, so here I am at home on another Friday night! There was a time in my life when staying home on a Friday night was akin to social suicide! Now I’m happy if we get an anxiously anticipated Netflix movie in the mail just in time for the weekend. Ohh, cheap date! But maybe staying home on a Friday night isn’t so bad after all, but more of a slow leisurely night to be enjoyed. I love all the leisure in Austen’s novels.

I wish my life were just as leisurely. If only I could go for walks all day through gorgeous countryside, spend weeks (or even months) in the city going to dinner parties and balls in beautiful dresses with matching hats and gloves. And cunningly flirt with the male suitors (Wait, at least something hasn’t changed over the centuries!) Where male chivalry was expected and women were fragile creatures who were treated delicately.  But then again women were not regarded as intellectual or intelligent.

I love that Austen’s main heroines seem to break out of the stereotypical social molds of the times. Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility) and Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice) are opinionated,  educated, confident women. They refrain from the vain indulgences that so easily beset the other characters in Austen’s novels.   Some of her other heroines must overcome the social pressures and vanities that surround them to find true happines, like Emma Woodhouse (Emma) and Anne Elliot (Persuasion).

With regards to Austen’s other 2 novels, Northanger Abby and Mansfield Park, I cannot speak to, since I have not read them (and there are no popular Hollywood movies that I know of) so I’m not as familiar with their storylines. I read the synopsis on Wikipedia, and it seems vaguely familiar. Like I saw the  BBC version at one of my girls’ movie days. But, you know how it is when a bunch of girls get together during the day: kids running in and out of the house, babies crying, girls chit-chatting, food consumption, so many distractions. Since these British types are so heavy on the Victorian language, one must pay close attention.

Well at least I do. I’m a literary novice so the language overwhelms me at times. I had to read the first chapter of Persuasion 2 or 3 times before I understood it. Sometimes during Sense and Sensibility I would read entire paragraphs and had no clue what was being said. Sometimes I would go back and read it again to get clarification; other times I knew reading it again would not help and just continued on. (I got the gist of it, right?) However, once I got into the novels, for the most part, it flowed beautifully and I could only wish I was so elegant in my speech.

I just have one complaint, at least for the books I’ve read (the movies don’t count here). The endings of Sense and Sensibility and Persuasion seemed so anti-climactic. While predictable, as a woman who loves perfect romantic endings, I was disappointed. In both novels, the main heroine was seemingly in love with socially unavailable men. Elinor Dashwood was in love with Edward Ferrars who many, including his mother from whom he required her consent, considered above her station. After 7 years, Anne Elliott was still in love with Frederick Wentworth with whom she was previously engaged; but, her mentor convinced her he was below her station and she broke the engagement. Throughout each novel, you wait for the inevitable conclusion where the heroine beats the odds and is finally united with her one true love.

At least in these two cases, the moment arrives and then, suddenly, the couple is together. There is no description, no closure for the reader, no captured conversation. For example, Edward Ferrars arrives at the Dashwood home, exclaims that it was not he that recently married, but it was his brother. Elinor dashes from the room and bursts into tears of joy that her love was not unavailable after all. Then you would reasonably  assume that Edward would follow after her and declare his love for her alone. But nooo, all it says a couple of paragraphs later is this: “This only need be said;-that when they all sat down to table at four o’clock, about three hours after his arrival, he had secured his lady…”. 

How disappointing, no desperate attempt to convey his apologies for misleading her, no description of a joyous unexpected proposal, no inevitable embrace to follow it. Maybe I’ve seen way too many movies where Hollywood antagonizes the audience until they are on the end of their chairs in anticipation of an emotional climax. Maybe Austen intended the audience to imagine their own scenario in their minds. Or maybe she considered it far too intimate to put on paper. I don’t know. I just know I’m a product of the modern movie and novel where I get to be the voyeur and witness someone else’s dramatic ending to a prolonged inner turmoil of the heart which ultimately concludes in everlasting happiness all the while wishing I were the heroine.

But, alas, I live in the normal world. Where toilets must be cleaned, floors mopped, bills paid. We are consigned to search out our own drama amidst our mundane tasks.

Movie Adaptations you might like:

Hello, this is the CrazyShoe Lady again. I want readers. So I’ve been telling my friends, family members, co workers and, well, anyone who will listen to me about my new blog. Some people have rolled their eyes at me, thinking I’m trying to sell them something as if I’m passing out fliers or stopping people at the entrance to the local grocery store asking them if they wouldn’t mind taking a quick survey (has anyone ever said yes to those?).

But mostly what I hear is this: “Really? I didn’t know you were so into shoes!” And then I feel I must explain myself . . . again. But it’s also the perfect opportunity to say, “Well read my blog, I explain it here.”

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t love shoes, or clothes, or accessories, or all things fashion. But I’m a frugalista, or in other words a fashionista wannabe. And I don’t even shop at TJ Maxx, at least not yet. (Whenever I see those commercials I think, I should go there. But then I just sit down on the couch and say, maybe another day.)

Believe me, if I had the moolah, I would be out there perusing the department stores, outlet stores, shops and shoppettes. Yes, I am a shopaholic wannabe. There. I’ve said it. I can finally feel at peace. (Do they have support groups for that?) Did you know that a credit card company can charge you a fee if you don’t use your credit card in a 12 month period? I know! I was shocked too! (I did charge my tickets to the NKOTB concert this past summer, so I guess I’m ok for another year!)

I’m more than just frugal too. I’m terrified of spending money! (I wonder what that phobia is called?) Every time my husband says he needs something or wants something, I say “We can’t afford that!” Sometimes I’m a little too emphatic about it. He must think I’m hoarding money under the bed just in case the banks fail or something. I’m sure he’s sick of hearing it over and over. Maybe he should take over the finances! (Yeah, right! ROFL! Hahahahahahahah . . .Breathe . . . breathe…..in….out….in….out….Ok, I’ve regained my composure and I can go now.)

But like everyone that is trying to overcome some character flaw, I go on binges. I can’t help it. I walk into Target and that little voice in my head says, you need that and that and that and that. Then I end up walking out with a new white T-shirt (I already have ten!), a table lamp (cuz you can never have enough of those!), a house plant (cleans the air, right!), new set of dishes (cuz I no longer had an equal number of matching sets anymore, where do they all go?), a new blender (it was on CLEARANCE!) and a new outfit for the baby (cuz you can’t walk into the baby section and NOT buy something. Hey if it was extremely difficult to leave the baby section before I had kids, I certainly can’t do it now!) 

And then I go home and feel quilty. And I promise to never go into another Target again! (I think there’s some law that says you can’t  leave that store for under $75.) My husband just doesn’t get it. Or maybe he does. He knows that when I go out shopping, I generally come home with nothing. If he doesn’t want me to spend any money, he just hands me the credit card! Hmmmm.

So if anyone else understands what I’m going through, drop me a line. I need serious help. Otherwise, I’m going to worry myself into an early grave, and that won’t be fun for anyone! And then where will you all go to get your comic relief? (I’m assuming I can be funny, but I could be wrong!)

Love,

A Shopaholic Wannabe

Hello again! It’s been a little while since my last post. I’m really not a slacker, there is a reason. After the first few posts, I suddenly remembered that technically this is a business, and so technically, I needed to get approval from my part-time office job. I work in an industry that is highly regulated and any work I do outside of the company must be approved. Actually theres’s the possibility that my entire life could come under scrutiny. It’s a good thing I stay home a lot and just read funny blog posts.

I would have had the approval faster, buuuut, I also got horribly ill.

So I had submitted my forms to get the signatures and then I was laid up in bed for nearly two weeks. The hubby and the baby also had it. We got it from grandpa when he visited a few weeks ago! Thanks, Grandpa! We love you too. We had a very nasty bacterial infection called haemophilis influenzae type B. No, it’s not the flu. But it’s just as nasty!

First I took the baby in and she had an ear infection. The dr put her on a typical round of Amoxycillin (spelling?). Then a few days later the hubby and I went in, he had pink eye and I had a severe sore throat. He gave me some strep medicine, which did NOTHING! Five days later, my throat culture finally came back and we found out what we had. Of course, by then, we were more than miserable. We endured severe sinus infections, clogged ears, stuffed noses, facial discomfort, fever, fatigue, coughing, and a baby who didn’t know that you’re supposed to veg out when you’re sick! 

After researching it online, I discovered that ear infections, sore throats and pink eye were all symptoms of the same bacteria, and that infants are vaccinated against the more severe forms since they can cause life-threatening illnesses such as meningititis and pneumonia. They (who is “they”?) came out with a vaccination back in the mid 80’s, which is probably why most people don’t even know what HIB is anymore.

Anyway, I kept missing work so I couldn’t check on my approval for CrazyShoe Lady. I went back after two weeks even though I still felt sick, and finally got everything taken care of.  I. am. good. to. go. So here we go! …. Again.

FYI, My sore throat is coming back and I can’t get rid of this cough. When will I feel better? GRRR!

This week I read The Sunflower by Richard Paul Evans for my book club. Here’s a short synopsis: Paul Cook and Christine Hollister’s lives turn in an unexpected direction and they lose their confidence in themselves. Individually, they start a journey to find themselves and end up losing themselves in the service of others and ultimately find each other. “Seek not your destiny, for it is seeking you.”  ~Richard Paul Evans

I devoured this book in one day, selfishly putting my baby down for an early nap so that I could continue to read. (She seemed tired, honest!)  Grudgingly putting the book down so I could feed my baby. (I know, I’m a terrible mom!) I really get wrapped up in these kind of love stories, if only real men were as honest about their feelings as Paul is. It reminded me just a little of Edward Cullen (Only the most perfect man ever written! But honestly, it really isn’t fair to compare the general male population to perfection on paper.)

Set in Peru, this book reminded me of my trip to Peru in October 2001. I had been to several of the places mentioned in The Sunflower. Before I even finished the book, I was getting my Peru pictures out and reviewing them. I couldn’t wait to share them with the other ladies in my book club. I really love to travel, but since I got married, it’s not as easy to pick up and go like I used to. I keep  a mental list of places I need to see in my lifetime. I had recently added Macchu Picchu to the list when I received the opportunity to go. It is happily crossed off. If you haven’t added it to yours, you should. Here’s a teaser:

In addition to the simple love story (which I happily ate up), there are other larger issues woven into the story. It illustrates that the best way to forget yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others. It is a reminder that, though we may be far-removed from it, the world is not always a safe place. There are millions of abused, neglected and forgotten children powerless to change their fate without our kindness. The world would be a happier place if we all looked out for each other. We’re all members of the same human family.

I really loved all the excerpts from Paul’s diary that started each chapter. Some of them were quite profound. Here are some examples:

“Love is never convenient-and rarely painless”
— Richard Paul Evans

“We spend our life building higher fences and stronger locks, when the gravest dangers are already inside”
— Richard Paul Evans

“Absence is to love what wind is to fire-it extinguishes the small and inflames the great”
— Richard Paul Evans

The way the story was written, it did seem that the story was taken from true events, and that the characters might be real. I really couldn’t be sure, some things seemed to fit and others didn’t. As a book group, we even discussed the possibility that it might be real, but others weren’t convinced. We finally decided it was fiction, and then I found an article (here) that confirmed to me that the story and the characters were mainly fictional. However, it is based on real experiences on humanitarian missions in Peru supported by the author’s charitable foundation. El Girasol (The Sunflower in spanish) is an existing orphanage near Cusco, that was founded by a police officer. There was also a deaf and mute girl that lived there. If only I had known about it when I was there. The book definitely filled me with the desire to go there and serve those less fortunate.

Pick up a copy here:

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There’s been a lot of public backlash regarding President Obama’s school speech today. To be honest, I did not have an opinion either way as to what should have happened. However, since the White House released the text online (get text here), I decided to review it.  Republican or Democrat, I didn’t find anything in his school speech that was repugnant, propogandic, or ideological. It’s just simply stressing that children have a responsibility to stay in school and get an education to the best of their ability. 

He said more than once: Do Your Homework! How many times do parents say that to their kids every day? I’m sure President Obama even says that to his own children quite frequently. Even with all his responsibilities as the leader of the free world. He may be the president (with all the responsibilities that entails), but he’s still a parent too (with all the responsibilities that entails).

Children today are the future of this nation. In a hundred years from now, what we will have made of our nation, depends on them. They are our future doctors, lawyers, lawmakers, teachers, philanthropists, etc. If we don’t encourage them to get a good start to their education now; if they don’t have support from their families, teachers and communities; then we are jeopardizing the future of our nation, by not investing in the future of our children. That responsibility lies on us. Parents. Grandparents. Brothers. Sisters. Neighbors. Religious clergy. Government leaders. No one is immune. What happens today affects our tomorrow.

I would want to tell my children the same thing. So what’s wrong with the President of the United States, a very public and well known figure, backing me up. I’m not a huge political activist by any means. But I do believe in doing my part: my part as a human being, my part as a citizen of this great nation (regardless of who is leading it), my part as a parent of our future.

Just so you know, I did not vote for President Obama, but that does not mean I can’t agree with him from time to time. In this case, I agree wholeheartedly.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming; less weight, more wit.

Let me tell you why I’ve decided to become the Crazy ShoeLady (you know, kind of like the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe, but different).

I’m losing my job.

Big surprise, right? You hear that everywhere now. I don’t think there’s anyone out there that hasn’t been affected by the current economic downturn. You either are someone or you know a friend or family member who has lost their job. Sometimes it’s even both. (My brother got laid off a few months back too. Thankfully, after a 5 mo hiatus, he found a new job last week! Woohoo!).

I don’t know when but it will happen soon. My husband and I have discussed different options to make up the lost income. But, ultimately, it needs to be something I enjoy doing. I love to be at home with my 10 month old baby girl (arguably the cutest kid on the planet). That’s what I want most, so we decided to try something I can do from home.

How did I come up with the name  Crazy ShoeLady?  When I was a teenager, my mother accused me of owning too many shoes. I say you can never own enough shoes. I even remember one year at Christmas, one of the gifts was marked “To: Imelda”. My brother saw it first and read it. He looked quizzically at my mother: I grabbed the box and without opening it, thanked her for the shoes.  (Google “Imelda” if you don’t know who that is! I only wish I had that many shoes!)

I also love shoe-watching, you know, kind of like people-watching at the airport. I guess you could say I am guilty of breaking the 10th commandment. I see someone wearing a beautiful pair of shoes and I WANT THEM!!!! Have you ever been in a bathroom stall and someone walks into the stall next to you and you admire their shoes? I have. Have you ever asked them where they got them? While they’re on the pot? I have.

Ok, so that’s a lie, I haven’t, I’m not that rude! (But I have thought it.)

Have you ever bought a pair of shoes and then had to buy an outfit to match them? I have.

I  know lots of women who are crazy about shoes. Way more crazy than I am. I’m sure there are men too that have shoe fettishes. But I wouldn’t know. My husband wears one pair of shoes only: an ugly pair of black crocs. When he wore through the sole, I thought for sure the nightmare was over. But no, he just went out and bought another pair. It’s just horrifying. They go with NOTHING! They. are. soo. ugly!!!!! I’m embarassed to be with him in public! He would wear them to church if I let him. Some people just don’t get style!

FYI: I just read this to him  and he said he’s actually slipped them on before realizing it was Sunday. And then he said (and I quote) “I love my crocs!”

I think I need to take drastic measures. I’m going to have to hide them (just like I hide his Wendy’s shirt). Grrr. Men and their lack of fashion sense, but that’s a whole different story and requires a post all its own. And then I promise to tell you all about the infamous Wendy’s shirt.