Devil shoes

Today's story is one of those I-can't-beleive-I'm-her-friend-why-did-I-decide-that-she-seemed-normal posts. Oh get ready, it's fun stuff.

So. This morning, I woke up at the standard, six AM. I was getting ready to do the standard, a boring tee-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. But no. I decide that I need to be preppy, I guess the word is, yank on the pink and white shirt with my black 'wink wink' shirt and a skirt. But, if you've ever talked to me ever, you'd know that I'm a shoe girl. I love new shoes, buying shoes, wearing high heels, envying over other people's shoes that I want, stealing my mothers really awesome high heels (my mom's over 40, she should be wearing sensible beige colored pumps with a small heel, but no. She wears the beastliest shoes known since Sex and the City, so I steal them...and give them back without her knowledge before she comes home from work hee hee), the whole nine yards. In a nutshell, I love shoes. So to make my outfit perfect, I threw on my 4.5-5 inch, blue, pointy-toed (which I was told a fancy word for them, but I can't remember what it was), slightly too big so my foot was sliding in and out the whole day shoes. I thought they were pretty dandy, and they just made the outfit. I was slightly more than a bit happy with my outfit, the hair and makeup are a different story; one, for the sake of causing mass fright, I shan't mention here, but if you go to Shaler, you've seen me and...well, let's just leave it at that.

So I get to school and nothing worth mentioning happens until right before second period, I had a double Physics (groan, Piv for 80 minutes followed by Zyhowski. Puke, puke, puke) and in-between periods, me and a friend were going to get some food because I was pretty darn hungry. Whenever I was sitting down, I would yank off my shoes and just go barefoot in the class. I never participate or move out of my seat so it doesn't matter really. But anyways, we basically needed to leave as the bell was ringing so we'd be back on time, not that it would matter, because Piv doesn't really care if we're late. But anyways, I was whining about getting my shoes back on because my feet were basically aching by then and then I had the brilliant idea: I just wouldn't put them on.

"EWWW! How GROSS! This floor is NASTY! Why would you want to do that?!?!"

"Have you ever worn shoes like this? No. I'm the crapface who thought it was okay, so I'll just carry my shoes and put them on when we get to the Titan Shop."

Walking there passed without incident until, "Where are your shoes?" I turned around to see some teacher giving me the highschoolers-are-discusting look.

"Right here." I raise my hand to show her Satan's shoes.

"Oh, I thought that you just decided not to wear shoes today. You do know that guys spit on the floor-right?"

"Yes, but I also know that my feet have never hurt so bad. So I would rather not wear shoes and walk on a dirty floor. I shower, it's okay." She gave me one of those weird searching looks, just to see if I was mocking her I think, and walked away.

So that was weird. Then I got to European History and someone said how cute my shoes were. My response? "They hurt sooo bad."

"They're cute though."

"I knooow, but they huuurt." I whined like a six-year-old wanting candy. Thankfully, they thought it was funny, and laughed rather than giving me weird looks.

By the time ninth period rolled around, I was limping like I couldn't feel my right leg, and stomping like I was out to kill each and every bug that would be so unfortunate to come underneath my beast of a heel. Thankfully, it was Chorus, and they have carpet in there and everyone with painful shoes take them off anyways, so I was saved...until the final bell rung.

I decided by that point, my feet were damaged enough anyways, so I took them off and started walking down the hall. I would have skipped except that skipping and mini-skirts don't mix.

This is the only pair of shoes that I can honestly say that if they 'accidentally' got thrown into my fireplace and burned, I wouldn't cry. Every other shoe, open the floodgates. I would throw them out, but I have a thing for shoes. Will I ever wear these again? Nooo. Should I throw them out? Yes. Will I? Noo. Why? Because I can't. I bought them, I'm keeping them until forced to be parted with them. Yes, that is how attached I am to Satan's shoes. Or all shoes for that matter.

But other than that, I've been in a super-Christmasy mood, watching Home Alone 2 yesterday and this morning (I used to be convinced I'd marry Mcally Calkin someday...then he got gross and greasy and wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole.) and currently have "It's beginning to look alot like Christmas" stuck in my head, which I just belted out for the whole neighborhood to hear while I was taking my dog outside. But it's not Christmas for another few months and there aren't any good Halloween songs (excepting the Nightmare Before Christmas songs) so might as well make the best of it!

Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for me. Been an awful good girl, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight...