I Still Hate Dressy Shoes

I managed to dig up a bit of photographic evidence to prove my long standing hatred for dressy shoes. As you can see, there are only three children in this picture...so this obviously goes back a few years. As the story goes, I was not at all happy about the fact that I had to wear my black dress shoes to the family photo shoot. Allegedly, I cried a few tears (or had a meltdown...whatever) which caused me to arrive at the Olan Mills studio looking as if I had just gone a few rounds with Muhammed Ali. Unfortunately, the color has changed over time thereby erasing the red circles around my eyes, but know this...the scars still run deep.

That aside...

Is anyone else bothered by the fact that my entire family, with the exception of Tara, has the same hairstyle?

"Fight Yellow Teeth"

I was reading an article online when this picture emerged on my screen along with an add for teeth-whitening. Now, I'm no dentist, but I think I can speak with confidence when I say that this individual has more problems than a few Crest white strips is going to fix. For starters, let's lay off the banana flavored snow cones and think about purchasing a tube of toothpaste...and a little floss perhaps.

Am I Too Young to Shop at the SAS Shoe Factory?

I decided to take a break from my not-so-busy summer schedule by shopping for shoes today. Unlike most girls, I do not enjoy walking the mall in search of the perfect pair of shoes. As I have mentioned before, I only like clothing and footwear that provide comfort and warmth. These criteria have worked well for me here in Colorado Springs where a person can transition from the workplace to a hiking trail without changing their wardrobe. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure my Chaco's won't be sufficient when I head to the theater in New York next week.

My goal today was to purchase a simple black sandal with enough of a heel to make my calves look thin and and my legs look shapely. As it turns out, they don't make heels quite that high. And, as it turns out, I can't walk in a heel much higher than a quarter of an inch. Couple that with the fact that I hate uncomfortable shoes, and you can begin to see my dilemma.

To make matters worse, I have a ridiculous list of shoe fetishes that makes shopping for footwear an impossibility. For one, I have no tolerance for toe cleavage. I blame this on my Southern Baptist roots. And Barack Obama. Number two, I don't like shoes that cause my toes to squirt out the end as if they are a party to some sort of Play-Doh Fun Factory event. Not even a toe ring can make that look right. Lastly, I simply can't enjoy a sandal where the heel causes the weight of my entire body to rest solely on the straps between the little piggies that went to market and the little piggies that stayed home. The basic law of physics tells me I'm right on this one. Actually, I have never stepped foot into a physics class...but if I had, it would have been in a pair of running shoes.

As you might imagine, my shopping trip only served to solidify my disdain for dressy footwear. I do plan to head out again tomorrow in the hopes that shoe manufacturers across the country have heard my plea for a comfortable dress shoe. Until then, I'm open to your suggestions.

Croquet, Anyone?

Today is the first Monday that I did not have to wake up to go to school. Unfortunately, my upstairs neighbor is unaware of my summertime sleeping habits and was nice enough to pound out a wake up call at 5:40am this morning. I love her. At 7am, my dreams of sleeping in were officially crushed when I received a phone call that someone would be showing my condo at 8:30. With this news, I was up for good.

I had hoped to spend some time hiking while my condo was occupied, but the weather refused to cooperate with my plans. Instead, I threw on some clothes and headed for SuperTarget because...is there any better way to waste time? I think not. On my way out of my condo complex, I caught site of a couple in the midst of some sort of meditation ritual on their patio. Odd...but, whatever. I drove on and began to reflect back on another interesting scene I witnessed yesterday at a friend's house.

After church, Kari and I went to Whole Foods for lunch and groceries and then headed back to her townhome so I could help her with some IT issues. Actually, she just needed to know how to create a playlist on iTunes, but I am rarely called out for any sort of technical assistance. I'm going to milk this for what it's worth. Since the playlist is for her wedding ceremony, I've requested to be credited on the program as "IT Support".

Anyhow, as we walked into Kari's house, I was immediately captured by an event that was taking place outside her back window. Apparently, Anne of Green Gables had flown into town to play a quick game of croquet in the courtyard behind Kari's living room. I wish I was kidding, but a teenage girl sporting some sort of prairie dress and a straw hat was in the midst of an intense competition with her sister and father. I attempted to take pictures, but the glare of the window created a ghostlike image leaving me to wonder if what I was seeing was actually real.
I watched in awe as I was taken back to the happenings of late 19th century America and wondered if perhaps this family was unaware that time had moved on without them.

Later that afternoon, I went home, put on my bonnet and watched an episode of Little House on the Prairie. I kid. I didn't wear my bonnet. Clearly, I'm in a position to judge.

At Last

I'm two days post pedicure, and all seems to be well on the toe-front. Either my expectations have fallen prey to the Colorado standard, or I have finally found a nail salon that does a semi decent job. My experience was not without incident, however. Once again, the labels had been removed from the nail polish leaving me to make a selection without proper introduction. I tried my best to get acquainted with each color before making a decision, and I thought I knew what I was getting into when I made my choice. Unfortunately, what I thought was a festive pink was, in fact, a cheerful orange. To be honest, the whole ordeal was eerily reminiscent of my dating life. Seriously, how many times have I been 45 seconds into a date when I was overwhelmed by the realization that I had mistakenly chosen "Your Royal Shyness" over "I Pink I Love You"? One too many, I tell you.

There isn't much to say about the rest of my time at the nail salon. This is due in large part to the fact that my appointment lasted all of about thirty minutes, and much of that time was spent allowing various lotions and chemicals to "soak" while my nail technician tended to an assortment of nail salon chores. I might have felt neglected under normal circumstances, but this was the official beginning of my summer vacation. Not even orange toes and a Ritalin deprived nail tech were going to steal that moment from me.

ALMOST Summertime!

Today is my last official day of school even though my students finished last Thursday. I'm contracted for an extra week because, as we all know, teachers are most creative and productive immediately after school lets out for the summer. There is absolutely nothing in me that desires to step out into the seventy degree sunshine and hike a mountain right now...nothing. I'm devoted to my profession and to my students. Clearly, my extended time here at school is being put to good use.

While the exhilaration that comes from staring at a clock for an entire week is enough to leave you wanting more, it will likely be eclipsed by the thrill of such projects as cleaning out my garage, packing, and scrubbing my baseboards. What can I say? I live life on the edge. Another case in point...I'm leaving in a few hours to get a pedicure...in Colorado. Need I say more? The fear of what might come to my ten little piggies has been enough to steer me away from sandals since my Texas pedicure in March, but I can avoid the inevitable no longer. It simply has to be done. Until then, know that I’ll be spending my afternoon finding creative ways to hang the remainder of my ’08 -’09 school pictures throughout the building.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday. Since I'll be away from my computer on her special day, I want to take this opportunity to wish her a very Happy Birthday. Mom, you truly are amazing. As I look back on our circumstances, schedules, and activities (not to mention our size), I have absolutely no idea how you kept us organized. You somehow managed to cheer us on at just about every basketball game, volleyball game, softball game, track meet, spelling bee, field day, competition, recital, assembly, school play, etc... And, you brought snacks. You made us a priority, always putting yourself last.

I never remember chaos in our home. From midnight homework assignments to emergency room visits, you took everything in stride. You are always the calm in the midst of crisis, and you have a resilience that comes from an uncompromising and steadfast faith. No matter the task or the situation, you quietly persist until the job is done or the problem is resolved.

Few people could advocate and care for TJ the way that you do. You have gracefully and tenaciously fought for him, as you have for the rest of us, through every step of his journey. You are, without a doubt, his biggest fan. Your commitment and devotion to him is an example to us all, and there is no reward this side of heaven that could match the sacrifices that you have made for him...and for each of us. I simply don't have the words to describe the love and gratitude I have for you. Throughout my entire life, you have exemplified the Proverbs 31 woman. So, today I rise up and call you blessed. (Proverbs 31:28). I love you, Mom...every single thing about you. Happy Birthday.

Oh, and I'm sorry about the whole Lifesaver, Handy Andy, hair pulling episode...totally my fault.