The beginning of a horror movie

So the new job is going ok. No one has demanded my head on a platter for screwing up their money really bad yet, so that's a plus. But no little kids wishes to work at a credit union when they grow up. It's far from glamorous. So anyway, me and the hub decided a few weeks ago after he took a fishing trip to the mountains, that we should go camping.

Now, I grew up camping out a lot with my dad. We went to lots of places up in the Blue Ridge mountains, and a lot of weekends out at his "hunt club" (Don't think swanky rustic wilderness lodge with lots of dark leather club chairs and stuffed dead animals mounted everywhere, think three-sided lean-to with a carpet scrap floor and a rusty card table). This means I'm not a dainty, squealing city-girl who can't stand the thought of being a little dirty.

So last weekend we went to a local outdoor store and bought several hundred dollars worth of basics, i.e. tent, sleeping bags, folding camp chairs, campfire grill). Today we leave for a trial run. We are going to a state park about an hour away in the foothills, where they have "primitive camping". This apparently means they have only firepits and pit toilets. At nine dollars a night, it's cheap recreation, once you acquire all the equiptment. I'm looking forward to the miles of hiking trails and the beautiful and fantastically cool weather we're having right now.

But let's not forget this is also the standard plotline to many a bad horror movie as well as just about every "When animals attack" special. A young couple...alone in the woods...in the dead of night...one hears a snap of a nearby twig..."Did you hear that?"

"No. Go back to sleep."

Another twig snaps.

"I definitely heard something. Go check it out!"

Sigh. "Ok." He goes outside to meet a silent and grisly death by dismemberment.

"Honey? Are you ok?" No. Honey is not ok. And you sit there and shout at the screen, "No! Don't go outside, you stupid moron!"

Let's hope we're ok.


P.S. This is definitely ok. In fact, it's more than ok. It's effing brilliant. Because what's better than smoking, breakdancing midgets? Pretty much nothing.

I am serious, and don't call me shoe-rly

Is there any greater feeling of euphoria than finding the perfect pair of shoes that you've been dreaming about and searching for months and months? And they're insanely comfortable? And you find them at....TJ Maxx?

It's unheard of. I know. It's the brass ring of shoe finds. I mean, cute shoes are, practically by definition, so uncomfortable that Chinese foot-binding sounds like a delightful alternative. Can I get an amen from my sisters? And while no one, and I mean NO ONE loves the TJ's more than me, it's not usually the place to go when you have something specific in mind. You go there to dig and rifle through the racks and discover random and unexpected fabulousness, as everything is pretty picked over.

So there, between the towering shelves, I saw them. They were so perfect just sitting there I gasped. Then...I kicked off my flip flops and slid them on. Then I gasped again. They're Liz Claiborne Flex Mary-Jane Wedges in black. They perfectly conform to the funky Gilmore Girl/Librarian style I've decided will be my personal style goal. I'm all about below the knee skirts, sweater sets, crazy wild tights (I picked up some Donna Karan paisley ones today) and hot knee boots or mary-jane or t-strap wedges.

Just the other night I ordered these from Zappos. If you are not aquainted with the Zappos, then you need to remedy that sitch. It's free shipping BOTH ways, so if you get them and they don't fit send them back for FREE. There's no risk involved, plus people who bought the shoes write reviews of them and how they fit/ feel. It's so fabulous I can't even stand it.

So, I'm feeling good. Despite the fact that right after I found THE SHOES, I went to the grocery store and while trying to get in to a sampler display of smoked turkey cubes, I knocked the dome lid off and spilled toothpicks EVERYWHERE. It was mortifying. No, I didn't even taste the turkey. I ran away. Well, I walked really fast away, actually. If you run away, people know you did something wrong.

I put the shoes on as soon as I got home. I'm still wearing them.

Love. These. Shoes.



Can you blame me?