Last night, I'm making my lunch for today and tomorrow and realize I'm out of lettuce. I have this strange urge to go to The Whole Foods Store Formerly Known As Fresh Fields to get said lettuce. There, at the butcher counter, in the row of pre-prepared chicken and beef dishes, was Chicken Cordon Bleu. I clapped with glee as the butcher weighed out our chosen breast, and he looked at me with a smile that seemed to say he's never seen someone so happy about a stuffed chicken breast before.
I also bought some new shoes this weekend at Sears. They're Harley-Davidson brand sqare-toed, clunky-heeled, badass-buckle shoes. Marked at $59.99, but on the 65-85% off sale table, I snagged them for a sweet $30. The sales girl told me I got a great deal since the shoes were originally $120. I didn't know Sears had any business selling anything for $120 that wasn't a drill or a treadmill, but hey. I didn't really save $90, I pretty much only saved $30, as I'd never even consider paying $120 for these shoes. Why? Beause I normally don't wear heeled shoes. Platforms, alright, but not just heels. I'm trying to break out of my tomboy sneaker mode, and to be honest, I have no idea how other women do it. I can barely walk in these things. They squeeze my feet in weird places. My heel is mostly unuseable since I can't really roll my foot in them, so all of the force of my step is being slammed onto the ball of my foot, under which there is no cushioning. I often go shopping with my sister-in-law and she'll squeal about how comfortable such and such loafery heeled shoes she has on are. Comfortable my ass. I'm not buying into it. I'll break my will of sneakers and start wearing grownup woman's footwear, but I will not try to convince myself they're comfortable.