Karma gets me! Wednesday, Feb 28 2007 

I hate crocs. I think that they are the ugliest shoes ever made, and the fact that they’ve caught on into a disturbing trend says a lot about our society today. I won’t object to nurses wearing them, since they’re “so comfortable” and everything, but when you start seeing Tori Spelling and Dean McDermott picking out tiny blue clogs for their unborn fetus, that the trend has exploded into an insanity that overpowers good taste.

My friend Andy wore crocs to work yesterday. With socks. In the middle of winter. “Yeah, you have to avoid puddles when you wear them, but they’re SOOOOO comfortable,” he told me. I began making fun of him incessantly. Brown clogs with socks, jeans and a button-down? (Or sweater? I can’t remember.) It just looked terrible, and the only thing more insane than crocs in the summer is crocs in the middle of WINTER, days after a snowstorm, when the streets are full of puddles.

So after ribbing him for a while, I get up, start walking, and hear a crunch.

My heel had snapped off.

My beloved, beloved black Bandolino ankle boots have been a mainstay part of my wardrobe for years. However, they’ve also been on their last leg for quite some time. I always wore them out clubbing in Florence, and while that didn’t damage them TOO much, it was the often mile-long walks back to the apartment over cobblestones that really did damage to them. Both heels have been coming loose for months — when I used to work 9 to 5 (ah, those were the days!) and took the commuter rail from Reading, I had to always walk carefully in North Station, because that slippery floor always put more pressure on the heel. Walking outside was always easier.

Since before I even started working in Boston, I’ve been saying that I needed to get them fixed at the cobbler’s, but I’ve never gotten around to that. Not a smart idea. In addition to the heels, the toes have been coming apart a little bit. Even so, I love those shoes!! They are so comfortable, they have a perfect 3-inch heel, and they’re perfect for my nice black pants with my ballerina tops and tank tops….

Anyways, that was karma like I had never seen before. Making fun of Andy for an extremely long time (much more than I usually do), and moments later, my heel is now coming apart.

I got a ride to South Station with Lindsey, and from then I just walked on my tiptoe. I could land on the heel if I did so gently. It was like the sole had come apart from the main part of the shoe.

When I got off at Davis, I continued the careful walking. I usually have a 10-minute walk home — let’s just say that it lasted a bit longer than I would have liked. As I walked, I began to hear an unusual tap-tap-tap sound whenever I stepped with my right foot.

Once I got upstairs to my apartment, I saw how bad it was — the heel was now only hanging on by a tiny thread, and had been turning and spinning as I walked. It looked like a child’s tooth that was about to come out — the kind of tooth that you keep in your mouth but push it around with your tongue, afraid of the pain if you just twist it out. That’s what it looked like.

I woke up today with my right knee in a lot of pain from walking half a mile on tiptoe. I think I’ll have to wear my most casual shoes — the ones with only a 2.5-inch heel. My only shoes without heels are sneakers, and I DO NOT wear sneakers.

Well, I’ve learned my lesson.

Don’t be mean to people, because karma will come back and bite you.

And get your shoes fixed at the first sign of trouble.

Something I learned the hard way…. Sunday, Jan 28 2007 

After an amusing situation that left me mildly sheepish yesterday, I have come to the conclusion that of the following list, a maximum of TWO of the listed options below are socially acceptable:

1) Sitting in the quiet environment of a Barnes & Noble, surrounded by people in chairs who are reading and being as quiet as you are.

2) Having a very large purse that serves the purpose of holding pretty much everything that you could ever imagine, yet makes it take forever to locate a specific object in particular.

3) A very loud “Dick in a Box” ringtone.

“Sorry,” I whispered to the group as I finally located my shrieking phone at the bottom of my purse. One guy — very cute, I should add — nodded, grinned and mouthed, “That’s great.”

The Aftermath Thursday, Oct 19 2006 

People say that it takes time to adjust to a haircut. So should it be a surprise that I know exactly how many milimeters (1.6) it’s grown since I chopped it off?

Seriously. This is the biggest mistake of my life.

At least I can still pull it into a French twist, albeit with a LOT of bobby pins.

By Christmas, it’ll be shoulder-length, and I guess that will be somewhat normal. But I can’t wait until it hangs all the way down my back again, long and curly. I had it SO GOOD! I never knew it!!

At work, I got the nicest thank you from the guy whose proposal I planned. His girlfriend said yes! 🙂 I’m thrilled. He told me he’s going to call me this week so that his girlfriend can tell me, too! Can you believe that?! I’m thrilled for them.

How ironic is that, me planning a marriage proposal?! Hahaha. It was fun, though. As long as it wasn’t for myself. SINGLE AND FABULOUS, BABY!

I have a ton of pics to post about last Friday night with Lisa and Erica and our shirts that we had guys write on — I’m still amused that my coworker Luca had to draw a nipple on me, using the hot pink marker, of course. LOL.

It’s so nice to write — with the commute and everything, I always feel completely drained, like I don’t have time for anything. But as I’ve said before, I couldn’t work anywhere else than Boston. And I’ll live there in a few months. (Might as well save the money now, though! My savings account runneth over!)

And, of course, now I can’t think of anything to write about.

It’s always like that, isn’t it?

The Haircut Sunday, Oct 15 2006 


How could I let this happen?!

WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?! Sunday, Oct 15 2006 

I got a haircut yesterday. I should have asked the hairdresser to only take off three inches or so.

Ten inches, in some places, were chopped off. I could have qualified for LOCKS OF LOVE.

My mom shrieked when she saw me, then yelled at me for getting rid of my signature look.

I’ve chopped it off a few times before, but it’s nearly always been at least shoulder-length. And I LOVE having long hair. It was just too tough to deal with and dry and straggly at the ends….

Long curly hair. All gone.

It’s above my shoulders now.

It makes my face look fat.

I’ll be shopping for a few hats at Target later today.