Ok, so I may not seem all that feminine to you, especially if you only know me from the JoshuaInk mailing list. After spending about an hour on the list this morning, and then transitioning back into meat-space, my husband informed me that I now “have the mouth of a soccer hooligan”. Heh heh. However, this post is sure to let the cat out of the bag that I am firmly trapped within the confines of my X chromosomes.
I am in the throes of a genuine shoe emergency and I am officially sounding the girl siren — I need help fast!
I have to fly across the country on Saturday to a wedding, which is bad enough. But this wedding is tainted by a ridiculous family feud that I refuse to be a part of, but somehow has still convinced me that I need to look good. So I did the only sensible thing, and bought kick-ass new shoes.
Here is the problem: the shoes, being primarily lime green, don’t match the dress I was planning on wearing, which turns out to be forest green. (Luckily my pantone chips are at work, or I would be seriously geeking this whole thing out right now…) So I figure, no problem, I’ll just have to find another pair of shoes. (By this I mean an additional pair of shoes— there is no way I am taking those lime green babies back. I am smiling just thinking about them.)
So I spent today looking all over Old Town for shoes to go with this forest green dress. It turns out there are no shoes in this county that look good with it. Every single color I tried on clashes with it. Black won’t work, silver looked awful, and I’m not even going to mention the putridness that was white.
After coming home and spending a very sad hour trying on every combination of dresses and shoes in my closet, I decided to switch to a grey dress, which I had seen the prefect shoes for. So I went back to Old Town, only to discover that they don’t have those shoes in my size anywhere in Humboldt County. Meanwhile, Brian is really helping out by repeatedly saying that he refuses to believe that I don’t already own any shoes that I can wear to this wedding.
So it was 4:50 on Sunday before I had the brainstorm that what I really need to do is find a new dress that matches the new shoes, and all the stores were of course closing by this time. Brian is really in favor of this plan, by the way.
So basically, I am going to have to be shopping on my lunch hours every day this week until I can either find a dress or shoes. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except that I had already planned on spending my lunch hours working in order to get all the shit done that I need to do before I leave. Brian is now convinced that the lime green shoes match the dress, and is insisting that I bring them in to work and get the opinion of the girls before I go shopping.
This is all turning out to be much too ridiculous for me, and if there weren’t a distinct possibility that I am going to get both new shoes and a new dress out of this thing I’d say fuck it and just wear jeans.
OK, there is enough estrogen in the air now that I definitely can’t think straight anymore, so I’m going to go have a fruity drink and try on those shoes again…