Shoe Shopping!

This weekend I went to an outlet mall to buy some clothes etc. And to see what's out there. It so happened that it was the first day of 100 degree weather is year. Oye! Although the mall was outdoors, the stores were nice and cool. So we could duck into stores really fast. And spend a lot of time there.

Smart people these store owners.

So I got these cute shoes that I fell in love with. Aren't they lovely? The best part is that they are very comfy. And spiky!

My kiddos got shoes too. I looked at them and realized that I've given birth to Giants! Look how large their shoes are!

Amazing!




Meanwhile, here is a post I wrote about spike heels. Turns out that it is very popular on the internet. Enjoy!

High Heels

Once upon a time, I used to wear shoes like this. I could walk just fine in these. If I was late for a work meeting, I could easily run in these. Life was good.

Then one day I went to Lexington, Kentucky. We went out for dinner with my hubby's friends. It was an upscale place so I dolled up. I wore my fancy shoes with really high heels. As we got out of the car and walked to the restaurant, my foot landed in a huge pothole and I tripped and fell. And landed on my knee. The pothole was THIS big.

Being brave that I am, I got up immediately started walking towards the restaurant. But the guys would have none of it. The dragged me back to the car, made me sit in the trunk of an SUV, pulled out a first-aid kit and cleaned up my bleeding knee.

They insisted we go to the minor emergency center immediately. It was a very deep gash. I vehemently said no. They insisted. I said no, no, no.

By now they were handling my knee like it was their property and talking as if I wasn't even there. "She needs stitches. She needs a tetanus shot..." Blah blah blah.

I insisted we go for dinner. I was OK. It did not even hurt. They all rolled their eyes and gave up. We went and had a lovely dinner. It was Japanese.

The next morning, I woke up and could not even move my leg. It hurt so so badly. I asked my hubby to drop me off at the nearest emergency center. He took me there.

The doctor was wonderful and cleaned it all up. There were no stitches because there was no skin on my knee cap. The doctor said I went there too late. I should have gone right away. I got the tetanus and pain pills and limped out of the hospital with a bruised knee and a bruised ego.

I went back to the guys and apologized profusely for acting like a baby. I should have gone to the emergency room right away. They all said aha and demanded I hand over my shoes to them. They threw them in trash. And forbid me to wear badly designed high heels.

So there you have it. Another one of those embarrassing stories about me. I don't know why I write these for the world to read. I am not writing these any more. No, No, No.

Boots

Now these boots are made for walking.

I bought these after the money rained on me. What do you think? Cool right?

I must confess that I have an obsession for shoes. Who doesn't? No matter how many shoes you have, you can always use more. Right? There are shoes for every occasion.

I probably have 40 shoes. This includes boots, flip flops and high heels. And sneakers. Some I wear. Some I don't. But I keep them for sentimental reasons.

I realize that this makes me sound like someone frivolous. But oye... don't make me go there. I can write a thousand posts in my defense and the blog will get very very preachy and boring.

How many shoes do you have?

Can't wait for The Mayor of Pottsville to respond to this:)

Spike Heel

and my five inch spike heel
rammed
into his groin
at first I saw a flash of surprise
then pain
and more pain as he doubled over
i smiled and said
life is short
get over it
and walked out
slamming the door behind me.

___________________________________________________________________


I have a confession to make. I write angry poems. Whenever I get really angry at someone, but I can’t really do anything about it, I slam them with poetry. I ram my five inch spike heel into them, I pour coffee on them. I do all kinds of deliciously wicked things to them. It is simply fabulous!

Don’t get me wrong. I am not a violent person. I’ve never really done anything violent in my life. These are just my fantasies that I conjure up into a poem. And the people I write about deserve this. These are people who know how to sexually harass women at work but know how not to get caught. Because there are no witnesses. They know how to play with HR. You are helpless. No one would believe you. Not even your close friends.

It helps me deal with them. For some reason or the other, I can’t really confront them about the issues. So I fantasize about them. The poems are cheesy, corny and utterly void of any literary value. In fact, they take up literary space. But I cling to them. They are my emotional crutches.

I use my muse to vent out. It is cathartic.

Be careful how you treat people. You never know which one is a closet writer. And who will write a tell all novel featuring you.