Christmas Wish List Top Ten Count Down... #10

I need new Tevas. I mean, I live in the Pacific Northwest, of course I need Tevas. At least these make them tolerable. Click here to order, I'm a 6.5.

Thanks, Jen. Will you be my personal stylist?

Keep Calm and Carrie On

If you know me in real life, you know that I am no Carrie Bradshaw. Seriously. I wear jeans, khaki capris, tee shirts, cardigans, Chuck Taylors, Clark's and flip flops. And a few cute work outfits. That's it. For real.

Which makes the fact that I have HUNDREDS OF SHOES kind of ridiculous and THREE ENORMOUS RUBBERMAID BINS OF CLOTHES kind of absurd.

In case I haven't mentioned it in the last five minutes, I'm packing for a move in 13 DAYS. My project for today was to do ALL of the laundry, and then pick out two week's worth of clothing for myself, and pack up the rest.

And now my closet and dresser look neat and organized and the way that a normal person's closet and dresser should look. And that is with just my two week's worth of essentials. The shit that I have packed up to take with me? THREE ENORMOUS RUBBERMAID BINS OF CLOTHES and HUNDREDS OF SHOES.

And this is after I Goodwilled approximately one metric ton of clothing today. I need an intervention. STAT.

Exhibit 1:

The "keep" pile, ready to move.

Exhibit 2:

Essential shoes being kept at the ready for use x the next two weeks. Plus the Chuck's on my feet, and my running shoes, and pink ballet flats and tall black boots. That's all.

Exhibit 3:

My Goodwill pile

PS: I suck at downsizing.

Really? I've got nothing

I had a couple of friends over under the guise of volunteer related stuff, but basically to drink wine and shoot the shit. Being the hostess with the mostess, I had thoughtfully opened the bottle of wine and taken a small sample, you know, to ensure it was tasty. I set out the bottle and three glasses. Our wine glasses don't match because, well, have you met me? To say that our household style is eclectic would be a nice way of saying garage sale chic.

My friends arrived, and one of them went to the kitchen to get a wine glass. And I said, hey, I've already got glasses out here. And she said, I saw that, but I want my favorite wine glass.

That's my whole story. It just cracked me up that my friend has a favorite wine glass at my house. I don't know why. Something about that just made me feel good.

Let's see, what else is going on. My efforts to cyberstalk Augusten Burrows continue to be lame and ill-thought out. He REFUSES to enter his web chat room when I am there. He refuses to acknowledge my HILARIOUS Twitter direct messages. I, on the other hand, continue to nurture our BFF-ship and am very supportive of his efforts to get a pet goat.

In news unrelated to me being a stalker, I planted a third garden bed. This whole gardening thing is way more involved than I initially thought. Apparently you have to pull out weeds and spray water on the plants. I swear, it's like having a baby all over again. I dug up what *appear* to be strawberry plants from another part of the yard and planted them in the bed with the other strawberries. Or? Maybe I transplanted weeds from one part of the yard to another. Only time will tell.

Oh, and Mother's Day. Let's see... got up at crack-o-dawn, went on an eight mile group run. Did not die, so I'm calling it a success. Came home and took a long hot bath, then ate crepes with Carlie Belle at Mon Ami. Then she and I and a couple of besties hit the Doc Marten warehouse sale, where I scored four pair of awesome shoes for myself and one for Carlie... for $10 PER PAIR. That's right. My child size foot affords me the $15 child rate, but $5 off per pair for Mother's Day. BEST MOTHER'S DAY EVER! Oh, and obligatory phone calls from the big kids, of course, which was sweet. I had money riding on the fact that I would not hear from my son (Taylor, age 20), only to get a call from him Monday or Tuesday saying, wow, I didn't even know it was Mother's Day, sorry. But no, he was Johnny on the spot.

In grown up kid news, my oldest daughter, Maggy, turned 22 yesterday. It seems completely impossible to me that I have a child who is 22 years old. I am surely not old enough for that?

On that note, it's time for my geriatric self to go to work. All day depos in a swank office downtown with overpriced yet conveniently located parking. Can't win 'em all, I suppose. (I wrote this post this morning but forgot to post it, so, heh, been there, done that.)

DIY Eyebrows

Well, here I am, right now. Flaming red splotches are gone and burning sensation has faded. Yay! But, hey, kids, Nair on the eyebrows? Don't try this at home.

I bought a pair of super hot faux metallic snakeskin pumps to wear to the auction Saturday night. I've been wearing them all day to try to "break them in" before Saturday night. The last time I wore heels all day long was a long time ago, when I was young and for some reason wearing pumps all day, working retail, on my feet, didn't bother me at all. Wasted youth.

Lots of little random happenings around here. Like my husband getting on Facebook. And kind of stalking me, frankly. Because he? Thinks he's really funny.

What else? Lots of work this week, which is not the week I wanted it, but I'll take what I can get. But between the working and the volunteering, I have not had a chance to do the things I need to do, like blog and email and watch Lost and 24 and, you know, important stuff like that. 

Frozen pizza for dinner tonight, between homework and basketball practice. Trip to the gym in the morning for a four mile run, then I have some finish up work to do on auction placards and bid sheets. Carlie gets out of school at noon for whatever reason tomorrow, so it'll be early pickup, out to lunch, and then she's going to a Build A Bear Party at the mall, so I get two hours of childless mall time with a girlfriend. That's something to look forward to!

Oh, and speaking of shopping, when did buying a bra become such a freaking ordeal? I tried on at least a dozen bras today and nothing worked. At all. So horrible. I won't go into great detail in case you're eating, but I'll just say one thing: back fat.  Also? The fact that I am apparently a size B and a half cup was a factor. It was ugly.

Time to haul my ass to the kitchen and unfreeze the pizza so we can start the carpool to basketball practice. Carpool meaning I drive kids there and then take everybody home and no one else has to do anything. That kind of carpool.

P.S. Did you hear? I am fabulous! Thanks, Holly.

Yep

That's right. $15 Docs.

How you like me now

PS: only two more pairs that have not been photographed yet, then I'll be able to stop with the Doc Marten posts. I swear.

Short black zip up boots. Doc Martens. $15. Uh-huh.

Aging

Seems like yesterday I couldn't knit without the kitty going apeshit for the yarn. Now, not so much. I guess we are all getting older, it's not just me and the Beastie Boys.

The Magical Kingdom

I swear, I am almost ready to shut up about the warehouse sale. Almost. Bear with me.

Here is a shot of a tiny corner of the warehouse full of shoes. I seriously considered bringing my real camera to the sale, but thought it might slow me down, so camera phone shots will have to do.

One of the many tables covered with shoes. Beneath the tables were boxes full of shoes.

Two more of the ones I bought. NO, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME. Note the color difference, the detailing on the lighter brown as opposed to the simplicity of the darker. THEY ARE NOT THE SAME.

I ended up with these two pair of double strap Mary Janes, the Leopard print Mary Janes featured yesterday. What you haven't seen yet is one more pair of brown Mary Janes (shut up), single strap and tannish, and two pairs of boots. Gotta get some boot pictures going, they are divine.

Did I mention every freaking pair of shoes I bought cost $15? FIFTEEN DOLLARS. Shutting up about the shoes for today now.

Behold the wonder...

How freaking fabulous are my feet right now? 110% freaking fabulous, that's how fabulous. Don't hate me. And also? You can't see it in the photo, but they are suede-ish.

More shoe photos will be forthcoming if I ever decide to wear another pair. I may wear these to bed tonight, under the covers.

Shoes again

I am headed to the checkout line with five pairs for myself. And yes, those ARE leopard print mary janes, thank you very much.

New Shoes

Is it wrong that a new pair of Doc Martens can make me this happy? And by this happy I mean, like, wedding day or birth of a child happy.

Got my 'net back, plus a giant hefty bag full of shoes

Thank God. And no one had to be hurt.

But now I am tired and annoyed and haven't even had a chance to write about my trip to the Doc Marten's Warehouse sale and the ELEVEN pairs of shoes I bought. Only two ended up being for me, the rest have already been claimed by others. But the good news is I am going again tomorrow, yay!

I'd love to know exactly HOW and WHY a wall jack stops working for DSL, a wall jack that the same modem has been plugged in to for YEARS without anything moving or changing or being altered at all. Then, WHAM, you have no Internet and someone in Sri Lanka is telling you to unplug it and try another jack and you're all, like, HELLO, I AM NOT A RETARD THE JACK IS FINE, then you do what they tell you to do anyway just so they'll GET OFF YOUR ASS and it turns out they're right. Go figure.