My wee fat babe picked up something nasty, from the gym daycare no doubt, and has subsequently blown out every single item of clothing I've put on him in the last 2 days. Poor guy, his cheeks of legend are so chapped and irritated I can hardly stand it. And oh crud, I just realized I need to wash his car seat cover because that got hit too, twice. Blech. On our way to Nordstrom Rack to buy some new dress shoes for Paul he leaked so bad we had to go to the Carter's store and buy some new sweats, which he promptly did in on the drive home. Oh diarrhea, I wish I could spell you right the first time, but I never do.
Speaking of The Rack, I tried on a pair of knee high-well almost knee high, deep green, softy soft leather boots tonight and cried a little when I had to take them off. They were only $89, which, hark! a steal for leather knee-highs! But my birthday isn't for another month and mama's got bills to pay. I mean, if you're feeling generous I imagine they're still there. Only knee-high, dark green, leather boots with a slight wedge heel I could find in a size 10. Does this feel like shameless begging to you? Good, mission accomplished. I also had trouble parting with a pair of nude Chinese Laundry heels that were about the perfect heel high for me. I haven't bought new shoes in like 3 years and I sort of yearn for the days when my life was all about me and my extensive shoe collection.
Who am I kidding? It''s still mostly all about me, at least you'd think so from the disturbing amount of self-portraits on here, but then there's my bearded and burly Paul (Bunyan in the bedroom, RAWR, what! ew gross), one brown-eyed ginger midget, and another fat poo-shooter with lashes for days and curls that make the ladies go woo woo! New shoes are great and all, okay they're really great, but I like those three things much better than just about anything.
Don't get me wrong, I still want the shoes. And I'm going to think about them a lot and probably eat my feelings worth out of the stupid salted caramels that my WendyFriend left behind last night, and maybe cry a little but somehow, I'll press through. Because I am a rock through such trials and sufferings, I tell you what.
Tonight I went and played some volleyball with a bunch of women from my church. Sure, I was the youngest one there and it was rather lame, but I'll be danged if such a lack of competition didn't make me look like the next Misty May Treanor or some junk like that. Ego boost, check! A bunch of dudes showed up to play after we were done so I stuck around to see if they were any good. It was decent fun, enough playing to make me realize that the glory days were indeed a long time ago and tomorrow is going to hurt like a mother trucker. I miss having a regular group of people to play with. The year or so of college I played city league with a bunch of friends from my work and we had the best time. Provo City league champs represent! In San Diego I had a solid group of friends that met and played at the church every week. Can I tell you how annoyed I would get when someone would show up and think we were just playing to have fun? Yeah, no. Go home. Not that this is all Olympic caliber stuff, but if you can't keep a rally going then get the freaking crap out of my way. Clearly, we are about the serious business here.
Ah bless, I miss those days.
Now it's stupid midnight and what am I doing here? Messed up I tell you, my internal clock is so messed up. I gotta get to bed. Down to Connie and Lane's tomorrow, I can't wait.