Where Am I?

Quick mini post here. 

Scene from my living room two minutes ago:

I just got home and am laying on the couch and have turned on the TV
Husband from doorway: Lost is on tonight
Me: I know, but there is only 5 minutes left, so I thought I would watch a little bit of Glee and see what all the fuss is about.
Husband: Oh, Glee, ya, I have been wanting to tape that.
Me: crickets...

My question is, who kidnapped my husband and replaced him with the guy who is currently in the shower?  I am not sure I am complaining, but I need to know whether I should sleep with a weapon nearby...

Shoesday Edition: 1st Court of Appeals

Saturday as I was fancying myself up for a wedding, yes another wedding, my personal assistant  blackberry alerted me to an very important email from Kim Kardashian.  My May selections of shoes were in!  I stifled a squeal and waited what felt like a decade for my tiny screen to display five shoes designed especially for me and my goddess like feet. 
I shook the phone, turned on and off the power, but yet, the fuzzy and blurry picture didn't improve with focus.  Behold:

Actually, I kind of liked the first pair of shoes, but I was holding out for something work appropriate, and I am also *trying* to stick to a budget and they would require new clothes to go with the cute strappy sandal and explaining that to my Husband would be like talking to the proverbial brick wall.  Worse actually.

Also, TWO bright yellow shoes in a selection of 5 Kimmy?  I have heard you make all sorts of statements regarding what is and is not the new black of the summer, but unless you want this strappy piece of sunshine where it isn't supposed to shine, you best pick me out something on the outer edge of the rainbow.  We won't go into the blue.gag.cork.gag.wedge heel or he suede (really?) boot because if you have read any of my previous Shoesday posts you have been fully apprised of my issues with both.  Unless of course you were classmates with any of the Kardashians in which case you too quite possibly had a good portion of your brain cells removed during your anti-cellulite procedure years ago.  

I found a way to muster through the burning tears and click, send me a new selection and was about to go back to primping for the upcoming wedding when I decided to tempt fate and check my Shoe Fab selection.  If you recall, Shoe Fab was notified of its current probation in April and was in current danger of pulling a Lohan by violating the agreed upon email notification clause in our contract, when the I realized that my shoe selection patiently awaited my judgement.  As the appellate court got under way, I was presented the following:

 

Ok, we have some possibilities here.  I haven't been completely persuaded by the Gladiator look, although I fully intend to embrace it about 6 months after it is no longer in style, so option 1 was out.  Option 2 was a no go for obvious reasons stated over and over again.  Seriously, why cork wedges are continually sent to me could qualify as the 9th wonder of the modern world.  Option 3 is not bad, but I already bought black sandals with a heel, I want something different.  Option 4 is an improvement but it's like the Twighlight saga for me.  It's better than the first, but its still a wedge heel covered in wooden laminate flooring.  I seriously considered option 5, but I can't get past the zipper.  I kept imagining myself attempting to seduce my husband by ever so slowly unzipping my shoe.  And then I would laugh at myself.  I couldn't get past that imagine of the seductive shoe removal, so I passed. 

Fortunately, Shoe Fab gives you 6 options per month, and so as not to tempt fate, I decided to take a chance on these:

I needed some new brown summer shoes, and I think these look fun.  And the best part was that I had a shoe credit from Shoe Fab, so I saved myself $39.99 this month. 

Sunday afternoon I was alerted that my Shoe Dazzle replacement selection was available.  I assumed the speed racer response was a sign from the shoe gods that Kim was humbled by my parting message of: I need WORK shoes.  In neutral colors please.  No gladiators, or shoes with 4 inch heels or higher.  My job requires walking through unpaved parking lots occasionally and stilettos are a little much.  Sorry about the bad breakup with the Reg, XOXO C

Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Reggie.

She is trying to imprison  my ankles now?

Speechless

More Gladiators?  Really?

Oh look, ONE pair of flats for work.  Oh, nope.  these puppies have rhinestones AND fake pearls.  They should take my junior league meeting from daywear to clubwear, no problem right?  Barf.

Girlfriend needs a new boyfriend, or therapy, STAT.  Clearly.

So as of Monday morning I was ready to give my verdict.  Shoe Dazzle you are Out.  Shoe Fab you are In.  Again.  Until next month when one of you mindf*cks me again.

Calloused and bunioned love,

C

What? Us guest-post? Why don't mind if we do!

Becky Mochaface asked us to do our very first guest post while she is off in some exotic tropical adventure. So, while she is sitting by beach with an drink with an umbrella in it, we shall discuss why we think we might be getting old. (Sads.)

Throwback Thursday - Musical Edition

Yesterday afternoon as I rolled around in the green fields of cold hard cash, aka my new job, I realized mini angel me that resides on my right shoulder was humming a lovely little diddy in my ear.  I recognized the tune but couldn't quite place it.  I wasn't sure if it was because my hearing has been permanently altered by mini devil me from my left shoulder constantly yelling the mantra "your soul belongs to this cube," or if it had just been a decade or more since the song was last played. Anywhere.
An hour or so later, my subconscious had written lyrics to the song and it went something like this:

*I, I got a new job*

*You would hardly recognize me I'm so glad*

*How could a person like me work for you*

My mind had reverted back to the last time I was truly, deeply, happy.  I lie.  I am actually a generally happy person, and for some reason, my mind's musical stylings today were from 1993.
**side note** Clearly something horrible happened to me in 1993 which I have blacked out and potentially need shock therapy to resolve.  Ooh! Or couples therapy... I could bring the husband and torture him with weird misplaced memories of my youth.  That would be amazing!**
I digress. 
How amazeballs were Ace of Base?  They were so much more than a three-hit-wonder.  They were the 90's version of ABBA, who I so knew nothing about until I saw Mamma Mia in Vegas in college.  Who knew the theme song of my career would be played by a Swedish Pop Group?  At least I know my Mom wasn't a reformed bed-hopper who couldn't identify which Dude she puked on and got horizontal with that eventually fathered me.  That was the premise of that story, right?  I couldn't see the movie because to me Amanda Seyfried will forever be a tween actress on AMC and I am sure that I would keep waiting for Adam Chandler to be revealed as the paternal donor sperm donor for Meryl Streep.  Gross.
What the heck happened to them?  AofB, not the Chandlers.  Remember their CD Da Cappo in the early 2000's?  Ya, me neither.  I swear.  I stopped listening to AofB around the time they came out with Living in Danger. 
However, based on yesterday's musical inspirings, I have decided that all big decisions/milestones in my life will forever be commemorated in songs from my childhood.  Last night I gave my husband a DVD of our wedding pictures and set the background music to Hootie and the Blowfish's Only Wanna be With You. He wasn't impressed, but likely because I scared him into thinking this date meant something. 
I fully expect to throw out All That She Wants at our next anniversary.  Should be classic.
I am off to make a radio dedication to tape the last song on this new mix tape.
C