Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Commit to the shoes.


Well, October has been quite the busy month. Papers, exams, Homecoming, my favorite holiday- my birthday, the brilliant John Green came to visit the Public Library for Read Week, my car died, and most recently I went to a Halloween party dressed as everyone’s favorite fugitive, Carmen SanDiego.
Changing leaves... mmmhmmmm.            
So, Katie, how's life? WELL. Story time.
Them shoes.
So this last Wednesday I was picking up a friend for a classic Ben Hur movie night and I noticed my car was making a strange sound as I was parking, but as I know nothing about cars, I thought, I won’t think about that today, I’ll think about that tomorrow. Thursday, I’m on my merry way to campus when I noticed my “ABS” light has turned on. Hmm, I will have to get that checked out… Five minutes later, I looked down and the gas gauge was “on empty.” Odd. Let it be know, I know I had about a half a tank when the journey began. Hmmm, I think, that looks like it could be a problem. Then five minutes later, I look down and, I’ll be damned, the speedometer is also on zero, even though I am clearly driving. I pull into my parking spot, turn the car off, and, for kicks, try to turn it back on… Houston, we have a problem. Well, I’m just let it sit there and try again after class, and if need be, I will have plenty of time to walk to work. Long story short, I did end up walking the 3 and a half miles to and from work, which is not really long, however, not being clairvoyant, I sadly had not worn what I would call “walking shoes.” Ahh silly me. Blisters for every! toe.

Friday was the party where I was to dress as the aforementioned Carmen SanDiego. Hmm, to wear my 5 inch heels, or to not wear my 5 inch heels… *Wear them! And be TALL!*
These shoes… I call them my “2 hour” shoes. I wore them 7 hours. Because they're pretty baller. When you walk out the front door, you commit to your shoes. BUT, needless to say though, the next morning… The blisters from the day before were nothing. My feet felt like they had been subjected to a Chinese feet binding ritual. Sitting around the house was the name of the game that day. And, slightly disappointing, my 6’1 friend had spoken the truth: Even with 5 inch heels I was still a good 4 inches shorter. Operation Tall: Failure.

Han Solo and Carmen SanDiego reporting for duty

And yes, you did just read an entire blog about my car and shoes. Time well spent. 
                                                     Until next time!


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