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Showing posts with label expensive shoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expensive shoes. Show all posts

Friday, January 08, 2010

Cold Weather - Who Cares! Let's Talk Shoes!!


It seems to be the theme to write about the weather right now. It's cold, it's snowing, who cares. It's not like it's never happened before. The only difference is that God forgot to turn the A/C off in Florida and we are in a bit of a freeze because of it.



Dear God,


Please turn the heat up a bit; it's getting a little too cold down here.


Plus my cat sat down on the porch last night and we haven't been able to detach his frozen butt from the concrete.


Thank you sincerely!



Though I do have to tell you about the lady in the post office this morning because I think that she is testament to a true Floridian. In other words; doesn't matter how cold it gets down here, a true Floridian will never succumb to it.


I'm waiting in line to mail off a, like, 50 pound book I sold on Amazon yesterday. This woman walks in wrapped in just about every article of clothing she owned from her closet. She had two pairs of leggings on (I could tell cause they were layered), a rather heavy looking skirt/dress/Muu Muu, a turtleneck sweater peaking out from underneath a polar fleece jacket/shirt/whatever, and topped with a rather large and bulky looking purple down coat that came almost to her knees. She was also sporting one of those knit caps with a big fuzzy ball on top.


Did I mention she was 40-something?


Her child, who was about 3 months old and in a car carrier, was also bound together with one of those car bunting things that keep the kid completely immobile except when they need to cry cause they're wondering why, oh why, their mother would put such an encumbering article of clothing on them in the first place.


My eyes eventually traveled down to her.... shoes. If that's what you could call them in subzero temperatures this morning. The woman and her kids were wrapped as if they were headed on the next plane to Antarctica. Until I saw those shoes. There she was in sheepskin lined flip flops! I really don't care how much sheepskin was on those shoes, it was not enough to keep her red, nearly frostbitten, nicely manicured toes, the least bit warm this morning at a balmy 18 degrees - wind chill 10 degrees!


This is how you can tell a true Floridian. They will rebel, somehow, someway, to least bit of cold arctic air that blows down from Canada by wearing extreme summer gear on their feet as if some miracle from the weather gods will make the temperature shoot up to 80 by 10 a.m., so their feet can hit the sand and surf while dancing the "I live in Florida and you don't!", dance on some half hurricane beaten sand dune.


Which this is also the reason my whole mind frame turned away from the weather and on shoes instead. I finished my errands and headed home for a little *monitor* shopping. I was actually looking for Nadia, but somehow my fingers just happened to type size 8.5 instead of 6 when searching on eBay.


Now HOW did THAT happen?


Suddenly, THERE they were! I don't know if anyone of you out there ever get obsessed about a certain shoe and you just can't get it out of your head?


Okay, stupid question. Of course you do! How thoughtless of me!


My obsession started about two years ago over these 169.99 wedges - which I have NO idea why they even add the .99 on the price tag when consciously all KNOW it means $170.00 - from the Victoria's Secret catalog


They were not just your average everyday wedges that we find on sale at our fav Tar-GET' or the "I wanna pretend I'm shopping on Rodeo Drive" department store. No! They were "Miss Sixty" shoes.


There are a few of us who could bitch slap if you don't know who/what "Miss Sixty" shoes are, but I can give you the benefit of the doubt this once.... just this once though!


But I have had a serious obsession with this one style, but by the time they went on sale in the catalog to an acceptable level that didn't leave me feeling that I had to pawn the twins in order to buy them - Victoria's Secret had the audacity to NOT carry my size in ANY color whatsoever.


The nerve!!


For two years now, I have been searching ....


(on and off cause I'm not that obsessive

- I do have somewhat of a life -


--- okay, I lied, I don't have a life!),


on eBay and several other shopping sites for this particular style. My searches failed as I could never find my size. I did think about carving the sides of my feet with my soduku knife in order painfully stuff slide it into a size 7.5.


Luckily, there was still some common sense left in a few brain cells cause the price tag on that particular size was $95.


Well, Lady Luck finally decided to pay me a visit this afternoon soon after I completely on purpose accidentally entered my size instead of Nadia's in the search field on eBay.


There they were in all their pristine, highly expensive, much sought after glory!







I literally fell backward out of my chair on onto poor Chowder, who was quietly sleeping behind me on the floor but was soon hanging off the blinds, when I saw the price tag.


$45 freaking dollars!


Let me say that I am a cheap wad and usually do NOT pay even this much for shoes. I have four kids and at this point in my life, their needs usually come first and I end up wearing their hand-me-downs if I am lucky to receive them before massive chocolate and grass stains have ruined their ability to be turned into something "couture".


But these were "Miss Sixty", $169.99, massively searched for, hard to find, cork wedges that I am SURE that my SIL, Deborah, is gonna give me hell for wearing something so out-of-date.


But I have been obsessed with these shoes for two years, and as I see it, anything that captures one's attention for that long MUST be placed on a satin pillow, under a glass enclosure, and sitting on a mahogany and marble surface with a light shining upon it, slap dab in the middle of one's closet.


Sound of angels singing AHHHHHHHHHHH!



Plus, they go with anything!



Sound of angels singing HALLELUJAH!



So my solution to bad weather and to those who have the snow bound crazies, is a little shoe shopping. After all, spring is coming; and one can never be too early to do a little shopping for the coming season!


Plus it always helps when our moms give us a little cash for Christmas that doesn't all have to be spent on the kids, food, and bills. I've had a funky year, so I really feel like I deserved these $169.95 turned $45 wedgies.


But there's still a problem. Oh yeah, you KNOW I can't get through one of these posts without the existence of a "glitch".


See, about a month and a half ago while walking through the park, me and my most graceful self "fell" off a 10 inch boundary around the kids park. This resulted in my twisting my right ankle to a point where a felt a stomach puking riiiiippppp next the the humpy bone thingy on the outside of my foot (it's called the lateral malleous, for those who actually know their anatomy).


I was trying really hard to ignore the pain searing in my foot that was either gonna cause me to actually puke on the poor guy who came to my rescue (not the opposite sex I married who was too busy tuning out my gasps for help), or pass out on his knees thus leaving him unable to flip the burgers burning on his nearby grill for his own family.


You will never know HOW embarrassing it was for THAT stranger to see MY legs that I had NEGLECTED to shave for the past TWO DAYS! Who CARES about the pain - HE saw me with RAZOR STUBBLE!!


But then again, I didn't expect anyone to get a close inspection on the legs that day. Remember that piece of advice your moms gave you about clean underwear in case you get into an accident and wind up in a hospital? The same applies for unshaven legs.


Since Julian and I had already moved in overspent our time in our local ER in the past year few months, I was in no mood to visit them again since this time all the ER staff agreed that I had to supply the coffee and doughnuts next time. I neither wanted doughnuts, nor another visit to the ER, so I opted this time to ice it down at home.


It stayed swollen for over a week which should have been my clue to get my stupid butt to the doctor, but I was still having ER flashbacks and suffering from PTSD from those many nights and days there, and couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone and call for an appointment to any doctor in the area.


Me bad - me stupid - me have absolutely NO brain cells left!


I found out only last night while Nadia and I were trying on shoes at the store, and only last night because I have been living in my Uggs since the twisted ankle and all the cold weather hit, that I cannot even endure the PAIN it takes to stand on anything above a 1/2 inch heel due to my twisting, and ignoring, my ankle.


Momma is pissed!


I had the hubs stabbing every acupuncture needle he could find in his little black bag, into my ankle last night in order to get this fixed now!


On Monday morning, there IS going to be a phone call to some doctor in this area and I AM gonna be hysterical cause he HAS to fix this ankle BEFORE springtime because I HAVE to get into this "Miss Sixty's" or .......


LIFE


will


come


to an end


as I now


know it!




Let's get pass the point that you probably think the shoes suck, or that they are so two years ago, or that even that I'm nuts. We all know I'm nuts, okay! It's about the passion, the perseverance, and the fact that this all started today over a freaking woman wearing sheepskin flip flops with her down coat in freezing weather!


Next week the temps are scheduled to go back up.


My "Miss Sixties" will be arriving in the mail at about the same time (just got the tracking number this evening).


I plan on being in those shoes soon thereafter, whether I have the ankled fixed or have to down several doses of Percodan in order to maintain a straight up, pain-free, position while wearing them.


THEY are that important!


Now, as I slip into my faux fur lined straight jacket, I'm gonna sit back and imagine what my coiffed manicured feet are gonna look like in those shoes.


I wonder if that's what that woman did when slipped on her fuzzy flip flops this morning.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Sushi with "Sarafina"

Some days, I'm not sure whether to be totally amused by my three year old, Nia, or worried that I should be entertaining therapy instead of searching for the right pre-school for her. At this point, I'd rather think of her as a clever little entertainer, instead of the the next Sybil.

Tonight, since it was Friday, we decided to eat out at a local sushi bar that has just opened around the corner from us. My three year old has suddenly become a girl named "Sarafina", that we are dining out with. Sometimes she turns into "Elizabeth", or "Rosalita", but tonight we have this new guest to get to know.

"Sarafina just loooves sushi." she tells us. "I have traveled to Japan many times and had real sushi; not the semi-fake stuff they serve around here."

Where does she come up with this stuff?

This is a three year old we're talking about here. She is oohing and aahing over her udon noodle soup while trying to master the chopsticks that are made for extra large hands, and not hers.

I turn to ask her "Where is Nia tonight, Sarafina?".

"Oh, she's been bad and has to stay home cause she's grounded.", she replies while sucking a noodle through her tightly pierced lips that are in the shape of a perfect "O".

"Well, what did she do?", I ask again.

"I can't tell you. It's really bad." she says with eyebrows crunched together and a wrinkle at the top of her nose.

So I begin my inquiry again: "It must have been really bad if she's been grounded. How long is she grounded for Sarafina?"

"For life!" she emphasizes through a whisper.

"Wow, that's a very long time. Do you think her mom is gonna make her stay grounded for life?" I reply very slowly while mimicking her voice level.

"Yep, especially when her mom sees those shoes!" she replies,

GOT HER!

"What happened to the shoes Sarafina?" I asked with wide eyes, a smurk on my face, but with a heart and mind of an investigator.

"Well, she wasn't suppose to play with them, buuuut..... she did anyway, and, well, she got them wet, and well, the beads fell off, but then she tried to fix them, but, well, then her mom found out, and then she has to stay in her room for life!", she says in one single breath in under five seconds while slopping another noodle in her mouth.

"What shoes with beads Sarafina?", I ask now with a firm inquiring tone in my voice and a pang in my stomach.

"The sparkly black and white ones." she says. This time she picks up the bowl and starts slurping the broth down while hiding her face at the same time.

I look down at my feet because I have the shoes on that she speaks of and there it is, or rather, there it is not!

"Oh Crap!" I say much too loudly for a Japanese restaurant, and the soup bowl is still covering Nia's face.

My brand new, $100 thong sandals that I got at a bargain basement price of $17.00 (but still the same, they were $100), are missing the main bead at the toe, and as I look a bit closer there are gaps where black and white pearl-like, sparkly beads should be.

My head goes into my hands over my tempura vegetables and yellowtail sushi.

"Niiiia!" I say.

"Nia's not here I said. I'm Sarafina!", she smarts back.

"Sarafina! You need to go home and Nia needs to get back here el pronto!" I say back.

"Uh, uh." she replies again with a mouthful of fried rice.

My husband finally intervenes and tells Nia she needs to fess up or no brownie when we get home.

That's it; bribery! Why does he always resort to bribery?

Because it WORKS, that's why!

"Okay." she says looking down and sideways at her udon noodle bowl.

She turns to me with those big brown eyes and cherub-looking cheeks and says so daintily and quietly with her little fingertips pressed together: "I'm sorry Mommy. I know I wasn't suppose to play with them. But they look like Princess shoes."

Even though I think this is the brownie talking, I am still taken in by the look on her face, the sounds of sincerity in her voice, and the fact that she is just too damn cute right now! Plus, my husband is giving her that puppy-dog look that tells me I have to back off now and just pick a different time and place to discuss this with her.

"And Mom, since I ruined them for you, I think that YOU should give them to me forever and ever so I can be a pretty Princess!", she chirps with a look that has turned into a sort of sunbeam over our sushi boats.

I think I want Sarafina back.