Category — I am a seventeen year old girl.

I got Dane these shoes for his birthday…or the other way around. Whatever. I had a gift certificate, okay?

Anyway, I love them but I cannot walk in them for more than three minutes without going fetal in pain, so I am wearing them around the house while I clean, do laundry, and edit the Secret of NIMH Fan Fiction Dane and I are working on, in order to accustom my feet to the glorious agony that is 4 inch heels.

Whoohoo internet! Behold! SHOES. (Don’t worry, I’m wearing shorts…you just can’t see them. OR AM I?)

I am.

(OR AM I?)

No, really, I am.

(OR AM I?)

Moving on…

Thank you all so much for your kind comments yesterday. They totally reduced me to a wet, blubbery mess while reading them on the treadmill at the gym and later, walking the dog and then again at the Rite Aid. Great job, people.

Seriously, though, thank you. It means a lot. And we finally got the hang of giving Arthur his shots, we think. The vet assured us that if we do accidentally hit a vein we won’t kill him. Bathed in relief.

To lighten things up a bit I thought I’d post this old photo of a photo of me and my best friend, Sy Parrish. This was taken when we were both about 21-ish, I think? Sy looks gorgeous and I look well, at least I look young. And skinny.

Clearly, we were both of us going through a pretty heavy Henry and June period - a movie I believe we watched approximately eleventy billion times together. Well…that and The Newsies. And Swing Kids. And Reservoir Dogs. And Until the End of the World. And Romper Stomper.

Moving on!

in other news I will be liveblogging the Prezzy debate tonight with the Merc peoples! I’m pretty excited about it. And also confused as to why they would need my expertise on ankle boots and shiny hair for a political whatchamacalit but whatevs - I’m down as the kids say.

I hope they know I’m a Republican.

The clothes.

The pictures of the clothes and the shoes. Shallow. Vain. DELICIOUS AND CHOCOLATEY.

Or what have you. But it is officially October and I am officially still a girl so fuck off - it’s fun. Besides, there are only so many intellectual conversations about politics, books, and art I can have in any given period of time. Like, one. One conversation. A conversation which would go something like this…

Me: That Sarah Palin is a stupid whore.

Dane: I agree.

Me: Books is good.

Dane: (silence)

Me: We should buy some Etsy art.

Dane: Sure, yes.

Me: Woot! Let’s watch the Rachel Zoe Project!

Dane: (Chews on brownie).

And after that I’m good for a couple days or so and then yesterday, as if in answer to my godless prayers, the new Anthropologie catalog came in the mail which got me to thinking about clothes and…where was I?

Oh! So I was thinking about the vast vacuum of new ideas for television or movie programming and that the next logical step was obviously a reality show based on catalogs (self explanatory - models confused and hungry in Iceland or Kansas) and/or a movie based on the same.

Think about it - Anthropologie: The Catalog the Movie. Doesn’t that sound thrilling?

IN A WORLD where clothes and fancy collide and no one understands why, can a lace sweater and heathered tights sit so saucily atop a five hundred dollar pair of emerald green t-straps that it will make women whore themselves out on the street in order to buy them?

Or how about Urban Outfitters?

IN A WORLD where fluorescent lighting is the rule and not the exception and women are so bored they forget to eat, can layering five to twelve items of clothing still not look bulky?

And finally dELiA^∗s.

IN A WORLD where everyone is a popular brunette with bangs and high school lasts forever, can three girls continue to hold hands while walking, drinking coffee, wearing fringed boots, desperately holding onto their virginity, and adjusting their collective headbands…ALL AT THE SAME TIME?

Fun.

Yesterday, after a long day of dental torture, grocery shopping, and bank deposits I picked up Dane in our rented Zipcar and we headed over to Pepinos to pick up delicious burritos for dinner.

Pepinos has a tendency to fuck us over in terms of our dietary idiosyncrasies so Dane usually stands guard to make sure no one reaches for the goddamn fat making cheese while making my burrito and also that the same cheese seeking hand goes nowhere near any vegetables for his. And because I like to help I usually grab a copy of The Mercury and sit down in a corner. For years, this has worked really, really well for us and nothing weirder than getting short chipped has ever happened.

But yesterday something did. And that something was named Jeff. And he was…oh my God ladies…he was HAWT. And, and, and…oh goodness…he sat down and introduced himself to me.

“Hi, I’m Jeff, by the way”.

At least, I think that’s what he said because mostly I was mesmerized by the man shaped pheromone gun aimed at my face.

Internet, I had no idea what to do and it didn’t help one bit that Dane was laughing himself silly watching the whole thing go down.

So I just sat there awkwardly, determined to act like a lady who is happily married, but also totally humiliated that this hot guy was hitting on me, on ME, and now probably thought I was a jerk - or worse - mildly retarded.

As soon as our burritos were ready, I shot out of my chair and mumbled, “nice to meet you” and we left. I thanked Dane for not coming over and messing up my game (even though I clearly have no game and never will) and he said, “Of course honey. That guy was so good looking, I would’ve fucked him”.

We are going to be married FOREVER.

Because I am bored to tears and don’t feel like cleaning or working out.

Wonder Woman from Kiala Kazebee on Vimeo.

I bought too many pairs of shoes yesterday at Target. I know, I know - you’re thinking, “Is that even possible?”

I feel a little guilty about it. Particularly because I bought the same pair of shoes in three different colors. The thing is I haven’t bought any shoes since er…December or so (flip flops do not count) and these were from Target, as I mentioned in that sentence up there, so I’m pretty sure they don’t count either. Plus we had a gift card.

The thing with Target shoes is you have to be careful about the plastic-y leather ones which will bite your heels painfully because they are made entirely out of old, discarded Trapper Keepers. I was smart, though and went for the faux suede moccasins which are made entirely out of old, discarded um, moccasins. So soft. So moccasin-y.

I kind of have Back to School Fever and yes, I realize we still have a good month/month and a half of summer yet but if Delias.com says it’s fall and the Brass Plum says it’s fall then it is fucking fall already.

My God, I really am desperately holding onto my youth. I guess here is where I should tell you about the fringe-y boots I also got. I was in some kind of seventeen year old off to college frenzy. Obviously, at some point yesterday, I went back in time and thought these would come in handy for those early morning European History classes and post-dorm party dining commons trips.

When I asked Dane if these made me look like Pocahontas he said yes but only if he could be John Smith.

I’m not sure what he meant by that but I’m fairly certain it involves me reading a map while Dane smokes a peace pipe and looks down my deerskin shift dress. Or something. I never saw that movie. I did see Mulan, however, which I think is the same thing but with more war.

Okay, I’ve gone way off book here. Sorry, where was I?

Oh! It’s Mad Men night at the Hesselbees and I hope you all are coming. Please email me if you haven’t yet so that I can clean a small patch of the floor and/or steal furniture from the lobby for you to sit on. If need be, everyone can sit on my lap. And if that isn’t enough to entice you then I don’t know what is.

Moccasins!