Are they too stiletto-y for you, though?
They are too stiletto-y for me, but it's too damned late. There will be no dancing nor sudden moves. My physical therapist will be ticked (if they have an effect not overwhelmed by the instructor training I'll be doing same week). Which reminds me, I need to book a massage somewhere.
Why is it too late? Isn't the commitment ceremony on the coming weekend? I bet you can find pretty medium heels, by then.
Okay, none of that is actually my business. If it appears I am overly invested, that's only because I am. I have my own dress shoe issues. Heels never bothered me. I was once the girl to whom people would say, "I love your shoes, but how can you walk in them?"
Now? I hate shoes. Almost all of them. Almost all of the time. I was home and out of heels for too many years, and there have been enough changes to my body over that time, that my feet are just *not* going there, again.
Why is it too late? Isn't the commitment ceremony on the coming weekend? I bet you can find pretty medium heels, by then
The commitment ceremony is this Saturday at 5. I have Friday evening free, in theory, but if I don't do laundry then, I'll be naked Saturday morning at krav. Not much shopping time, and from my look-see yesterday, the medium delicate heels are few and far between. That height is the standard height.
I can walk in them. I have no idea for how long, since this is new, but I can walk without looking the fool.
We shall learn.
I saw your previous, kinder-ish taunt, earlier this morning, but then lost track of which thread I'd seen it in.
Well played, Narrator. The White Sox flogged and punished us, but good.
I wouldn't dispair. This is the first time the White Sox have won a playoff game at home since the 1959 World Series. It's likely they won't win another.
I'll be naked Saturday morning at krav.
This is for the In-My-Plan-We-Are-Beltless Belt?
Oh, and Narrator, I forgot to add, the first Red Sox game I ever attended was against the White Sox. I went with a group from my church. I must have been in late elementary school, but I disremember the circumstances. The father who took us got a parking ticket. I got a sunburn, and cut and sprained my ankle, trying to stand on my seat at the game. And? The White Sox kicked our butts but good (I want to say 11-1 or 11-0).
I'm pretty sure my experience says something about being born and bred in Red Sox nation, but I'm not sure what.
Fourth grade is so different from third.
It really is. Though I also thought third was a quantum leap up from 2nd.
Emmett is also doing longitude and latitude, incidentally. He is also working with salt dough.
Hey, today (in addition to being Tom and Nora Day), is Dine For America day, with proceeds going to hurricane relief.