Throwback Thursday!

Its Throwback Thursday again, where we visit things that were once amazing but are now weird or embarassing. Today’s topic: Fraggle Rock.

If you don’t remember Fraggle Rock you probably had an empty childhood. Or you just didn’t have cable since during my Fraggle Rock research I found out that it only came out on HBO. Maybe this is why I have such a strong affinity for HBO. If I am going through a poor spell I would rather go without things like solid foods or vehicle maintenance or going out than to give up my HBO in fear I might miss something epic. Fraggle Rock ran from 1983 to 1987, which was a time where I was barely forming a memory so you know this was good stuff. I am pretty sure the Fraggles are the inspiration for the movie Avatar also. They could share and enter each other’s dreams and thoughts, they were a euphemism for prejudice and other profound matters, and they were strangely colored. Its practically the same program but in caves rather than jungles. Anyway, no one really cares about the story. The best part of Fraggle Rock is the theme song, which has been in my head for days now and will now be in yours:

Fraggle Love,

Gina

Shoesday: Shoe Fab vs. Shoe Dazzle part deux

April 1, 2010 was supposed to be a day of redemption for the folks at Shoe Fab.  I wated anxiously for my selection of new, to be coveted, shoes to be delivered directly to my inbox (via internet link, of course... how hard would it be to send me my selection without having to click on the internet, really?).  About 10am I was angry.  No shoe selection.  So I logged on to the website, and low and behold, there were 6 *shoes* staring at me from my boutique.  Apparently Shoe Fab was hiding in shame and hoped I would let this month go by unnoticed and not bear witness to the following atrocious craft projects masquerading as footwear:

Also, Rebekah, as seen bottom center:

(I left the selection at 3, no need to terrify anyone else.)

Boots?  You gave me f*ing boots in April?  I live in South Texas for the love of monkeys.  Boot season in South Texas is known as January.  So in my completely depressed and deflated state of mind, I swiftly hit, *New Selection, Please!* and awaited a new set of six new shoes.

Meanwhile, I decided that maybe Gina was right.  Shoe Dazzle was the way to go.  If nothing else, Kimmy K and I share the burden gift of full figured bottom halves, and everyone knows big booty women all think alike, yes?

So I logged on to Shoe Dazzle.  I began the survey... which outfit do you like best?  Well, none of them seem *real world wearable* but whatev, my tendancy to lean towards outfits without neon fur and with at least mid-thigh coverage obviously will direct the masterminds behind the shoe cult towards the perfect shoe for me.  Perfect being, work appropriate, but also wearable with my weekend uniform of jeans and various tops.  Perfect not being tranny, bedazzled, corked, or hippie - ish in any way.
*Wow, we need a cold shower.  The shoes we have selected so far today have left us hot.  Please try back later.*
Come again?  Your site is overloaded so you can't possibly determine which of your 80,000 shoes is the missing piece of my wardrobe?  Fanf*ingtastic.  I will wait.
Three days later, I get a Shoe Fab email.  I think to myself, Oooh, an email?  They must have found the holy grail of shoe happiness.  Must.see.shoes.now...

This shoe was already sold out?!?! The shoe people didn't even line up the heel with the side of the shoe correctly, but it SOLD OUT?P

Tears.  Actual tears begin falling.  I asked for WORK shoes.  Like I have a job with business suits and a laptop and everything.  I can't wear SANDALS!!  Shoe Fab, you are fired!  Well, on notice, since I have a shoe credit I need to cash in. 

Three more days pass, and Shoe Dazzle finally comes through:

The first shoe isn't awful, but I am not sure about the trapezoidal wedge heel, and also, I can't wear it to work.  Second shoe almost made me quit Shoe Dazzle.  Seriously, did you consult my Mom? Third shoe is ehh, but cork and I said no to cork in my surveys. 
However the shoe stars aligned and Shoe Dazzle also selected the Gracie in midnight blue.  Behold:

From my cube at work.

I decided I like them.  A lot.  Like, enough to want to go shopping for things to wear with midnight blue shoes, like them.  This shoe cult habit is going to bankrupt me.  Don't tell my husband, please.
So after much internal deliberation, followed by many many emails to Gina discussing the merits of flats and whether or not tranny is the new black, I have made my final ruling.  Shoe Fab is out, Shoe Dazzle is in.  Until the May appeals process.  Or until I begin my career as a Nocturnal Maiden of Joy.  It could happen.
~C

I swear this is not a weight-watchers blog. A back fat blog maybe, but not a weight-watchers blog.

I was going to do a whole post on back fat, otherwise known as breadback, but I think we write an awful lot about body issues for this not being a Weight-Watchers blog. So, that being the case, instead I will just give you a summary of my weekend:

Friday: Our oldest and dearest couple friends invite N and me, as well as two other couples, to the lake for the weekend. I am thinking "what a perfect setting for an impending proposal". N is thinking "woohoo, finally some man time, and by the way I wonder if Gina would mind just meeting me there so I can go up early and bond with my buddies?" I am not sure he realizes that him buying a ring and me not immediately wearing it is cruel and unusual punishment. So in preparation for the weekend, I perform all kinds of soon-to-be wifely duties, such as washing both of our clothes, making sure to pack his swimming trunks since he will without a doubt forget, and going swimsuit shopping for myself to make sure he remembers how hot I am and what a catch I will be. Well, we all know how all swimsuit shopping ends (me being in denial and trying on several suits that are too small and then eventually trying on and buying one the right size and then going home to eat a whole box of Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches because only food will make me feel better but it also makes me fat so at least this food has the word “skinny” in the title) so we won’t elaborate on that shopping experience. We drive up to the lake where it is raining monsooning and end up drinking in the condo with the other couples until all the ladies retreat to their rooms and its just the guys. Since we decided to go at the last minute, we end up having to sleep on the pullout couch, which means I can go to bed as long as I don’t mind listening to four drunk guys talking about steaks or boobs or whatever men talk about. It is around this time that I decide this would not be the perfect setting for a proposal and abandon the idea at once.
Saturday: Still raining. N and I decide to cut our losses and head back home. We end up sleeping all day to recover from the night before and make plans to go out and have a nice dinner but somehow ended up at a comedy club. Same diff. N finds out I have been telling people he bought a ring and that I have been showing everyone from my recruiter to Lucy’s vet the picture of a picture of the ring I took with my phone. He says I am ridiculous, which we all know means I am amazing.
Sunday: N has to work so we part ways (he lives an hour away from me, hence the recruiter). I try to convince him to mow my lawn (this isn’t a euphemism, I am talking about my real actual grass and weeds yard) but he says it can wait. I am all about being an independent woman, but I HATE being outside. I mean, why would I go outside where there is AC and DVR’d episodes of Top Model and Modern Family inside? Plus, I have gone 28 years without having to mow a lawn and I am not about to start now. So even though I have a mini-rainforest going on right now and the HOA is p-i-s-s-e-d and Lucy has to dodge alligators and red-butt monkeys every time she has to pee, I am determined to wait it out. I ended up going to a jazz festival where apparently I was all the rage because people kept telling me I had beautiful eyes and giving me free beer. Oh yeah, and I had a pork chop sandwich. So all in all it was a good weekend.


Wishing you pork chop sandwiches and mini-rainforest eco-systems,

Gina