With all apologies to Lewis Carroll

Of Shoes

Never before in my life have I actually appreciated having cute shoes. I mean, I've always been the girl with the widest feet on the planet. At my highest weight, I had to buy size 11W shoes just to fit into things. Needless to say, on my budget, not much in the way of "cute" was able to happen. And boots? Hah, hah! Tis to laugh!

Now that the excess fat has drained away from my feet, I am still left with my width and my impossibly high arch - both of which conspire to keep me out of certain types of shoes. But they didn't stop me when I set out to find an absolutely adorable pair of red shoes.

It was inspired by a shopping trip to Mervyns. There was this pair of gorgeous red satin peep-toe heels. But of course, nothing in my size. An 8 was as high as it got. Feh! But a few days later I was in the mall and stopped at Payless and managed to find a pair of deep burgundy red pumps with a kitten heel. For $10! Score! I finally had a red pair of shoes. I could finally FIT into a pair of cute red shoes. Eeeeee!

I wore them the other day with a pair of dark washed jeans and a nice sweater. The compliments on my footwear alone? Out of this world. Who knew that a simple thing like red shoes gets you noticed? Not me. Well, at least not until now, that is. I forsee many more pairs of red shoes in my future.

Of Ships

This summer The Husband and I purchased one of those pick-your-date cruises that are good for two years. We probably need to actually, you know, get around to picking a date so that we can actually get off our duffs and go enjoy a cruise. Before hurricane season? During hurricane season? After hurricane season? When, oh, when, oh, when?

And what's this I hear about the rampant tipping - you have to tip about a bazillion people on a ship, I'm told. WTF is that all about? I mean, if they serve me, sure, they'll get a tip. But I'm not handing some dude a $50 for standing at a door and greeting me every night. Serve me a drink or four, get me my food, get my desert, yeah, I'll tip you. But for doing nothing but smiling? I don't think so, bub. We have gotten to be a nation of obsessive tippers and I'm just sick of it. I don't mind paying more for my food or more for my hotel if I didn't have to worry about how much I need to tip the server. Pay them a damn living wage, people! Aaargh!

Of Sealing Wax

We sure could have used some Sealing Wax this weekend when we discovered the cause of the $200 electric bill that was run up by our communal well. The tank? It has sprung a leak. Right at the bottom. *thunk* Sigh! Well, there goes all the money that we were going to spend on a 1973 Chevy Impala that we were going to fix up for Thing One to drive when she gets a license.

This tank is one of the newfangled green plastic well tanks that manufacturers replaced the older style metal tanks with. It's supposed to last twice as long as the old ones and be ever so great. This one lasted about four years. Yeah. That. Possibly the reason why it failed was because the damn thing was installed shoddily by the people that work on our well. They failed to level and border the gravel properly, and the tank listed to the North from the very beginning, or so we were told by the Pervert who was present when the tank went in.

Oh yes. The Pervert. Yes, we live next door to a convicted child molester. Yes, he knows that he will lose his life if he goes near the girls. Yes, they know how to do bodily injury to him should he ever try anything with them. Yes, he knows that we mean business. Unfortunately, we have to deal with him from time to time, and seeing as how he owns a portion of the well, this is one of those times. But we're going to have really good luck if we get a penny out of him to pay for what we need to to replace things. Which at this moment includes a new pressure tank, a new pressure tank pump and other small items in addition to the new main tank that we will need. 'Cause he's low income, don'tcha know? It's called the cost of home ownership, buddy! We can put a lein on your property for the money and don't think that we won't, okay? Grrrrrr!

Anyway, that's life down here in the Land of Sheeple. It's just grand, ain't it? *sigh*

Well, now. This is a new one for me.

Ummm, how do you tell a guy to knock it off with the wooing? Especially when he's trying to, um, woo your HUSBAND? Especially when he's a long-standing friend. Who knows damn well that we're very happily married and that The Husband doesn't, um, lean that way, you know?

What once used to be a very good friendship has now devolved into . . . this. It hurts that this friend of ours puts so little value on our actual friendship and more on his desire to get laid. It was a big deal for The Husband to get over his homophobia when our friend came out to him about his bisexuality, and now it's all being blown to pieces.

I guess we should have started reading the writing on the wall when our friend insisted that The Husband not tell me about this state of affairs in regards to his sexuality. He still doesn't know that I know. And now he has crossed a HUGE line, once again asking that I not be told about it, and once he obtained forgiveness from The Husband for it, this pursuit began.

So . . . Listen, buddy. Forgiveness does not equal an invitation into bed, okay? It means that the incident is forgiven. It also means that The Husband has no intentions of ever being alone with you again because he doesn't want to take the chance that you will take it as an invitation to try again. I mean, seeing as how you now think that it's now open season for you with MY HUSBAND.

We listened to your tales of woe with your ex-wife. We empathized with you because she was, frankly, the world's biggest bitch ever. We know because she affected us as well. We have been there for you through thick and thin as you have been for us. We have all helped each other through good times and bad, fixing up houses together, watering orchids together, drinking and eating together. We are quite possibly the only friends that you have at the moment because of your tendency to insulate yourself from life.

Are you really willing to throw it all away just so you can try to get it on with The Husband? Is it worth it to you? Because if it is, we will not hesitate in the slightest to cut you off.

And to think. The Husband thought that he would have to beat guys off of me with a stick once I lost the weight. Hah! I don't know whether or not to be insulted or relieved that it's not me on the hotseat. Or maybe I'm just covering how heartbroken I am that we may have to end a friendship because of someone's selfish lust. I truly hope it doesn't have to come to that, but I suppose I have to prepare for it.