Happy Caturday: Gnawing edition

Take this :

Add this:

And you get this:

Rajah is very displeased that I took away his favorite chew toy, but I don’t want him swallowing any of it 🙂

Happy Caturday all!!

How High Heels Caused The Decline of Western Civilization

Once upon a time all humans went barefoot. We gathered and hunted, drank pure water and breathed clean air, and lived happily ever after.

Oh, and there were unicorns.

It all changed with the arrival of designer footwear.

Suddenly women were encouraged to strap little poles onto their feet. Gone was the natural equilibrium and balance for which we were designed. Physical agility was banished in favor of looking two to four inches taller.

And what, pray tell, has been the result??

CULTIVATION OF FEMALE HELPLESSNESS. No longer able to kill our own bears and drag them back to our kitchens, women began depending on men to provide sustenance.

DEMONIZATION OF MEN. Learned female helplessness was quickly followed by resentment of those were were NOT helpless, I.e., those who were not tottering about with sticks on their soles. Also, men’s shoes were a lot more comfy. Those bastards!

And finally, and worst of all — Stilettos –> Stilts –> CIRCUS CLOWNS. EVIL, EVIL CIRCUS CLOWNS.

The snake in the garden of Eden gave Eve a pair of snakeskin pumps, by the way. Then she used them to kill unicorns.

Yup, there’s pretty much no evil on the face of the earth that doesn’t stem from women’s high-heeled shoes.

….. Why no, I’m not BitterHateRage-y over going to New York City, Land of Fashion and Beauty, and being forced by my sesamoiditis to wear Croc flats the whole time. Why do you ask? 🙂

UPDATE: Jay G is amused. Thanks!

I should have known better.

*sigh* Lissa, WHEN will you learn not to try on boots “just to see how they look”?

Rajah, being a cat, decided to help Mommy take pictures of her new boots:

Um, thanks kitty.

The color didn’t get captured that well, but the boots are a deep, rich burgandy:

Happy Friday Footware!

P.S. I updated the “Question on Rape Post” again

Guilt.

No, I don’t mean a guilty conscience, or white guilt.  I mean fiscal guilt.

I have a lovely white raincoat that I bought recently and wore to a college graduation.  I received many compliments on it.  My standard response?  “Thanks!  It was on sale!”  Or “Thanks! It was only $___!”

I’ve bought some new shoes recently; both on the Kitty Den budget (my other black heels wore out) and on my allowance funds (didn’t need them, just WANTED them, and they were WICKED on sale).  I’ve received compliments on them.  My standard response?  “Thanks!  They were wicked cheap at Macy’s!”

Why can’t I calmly accept compliments on my apparel or belongings?  Why do I feel the need to reflexively defend myself against a nonexistent charge that I spent too much money?

Mike and I are pretty lucky right now; we both have good jobs, and we don’t yet have kids.  (Except Rajah, and while he’s a little piggy we regulate his diet pretty well so he doesn’t eat us out of house and home.  Also, he’s healthy, so we don’t have ridiculous vet bills with which to contend.)  Still, we eat dinner at home at least five days a week, usually more.  I shop and cook every week according to what’s on sale at the grocery store.  We both make lunches to bring to work.  We have designated allowance funds that let us indulge our whims to a certain extent, and no more.

We’re fiscally prudent because it’s silly not to be.

Why, then, do I feel guilty?

Why do I reflexively feel the need to defend myself about new purchases?

P.S. Turns out I”m very used to 3.5″ heels.  4″ takes a bit of getting used to.

TOTALLY guilty as charged!

Yes, this is how I buy my shoes. I bought another pair today, in fact.  They’re very comfy.

Money quote:  “While only 38 percent of men own more than seven pairs of shoes, the average woman owns somewhere between “a s***-ton of shoes” and “a number of shoes so f***ing vast it had to wait for scientific notation to be invented to be expressed on paper.”

(Asterisks are mine.  I can only aspire to such heights of comedic swearing as the Cracked folks achieve on a daily basis.)

Friday Footwear

The “Friday Footwear” title is shamelessly stolen from Seraphic Secret, but hey, these are the first new shoes I’ve bought in a long time and they’re super-cute!

They’re sold out in this color, but you can find ’em in brown here.

Hie thee on over to Breda’s . . .

 . . . and check out this amazingly awesomely inspiring and beautiful woman. 

Oh, and check out the video she posted, too.  🙂

Look at the gorgeous and functional works of art, below.

I’m seriously artistically-challenged — flat-out art-stupid, really — but even *I* am gobsmacked.  And the shoes that lady wore during her presentation?  WANT!!!!

(I am officially envying the footwear (footware? maybe!) of a woman who wears two prosthetic legs.  WHICH IS F***ING.  AWESOME.)

WANT!!!!!!!!!

I’m heading down to Florida this evening for an early Thanksgiving; I’m very fortunate that I can have two this year!  Of course, the first Thanksgiving will consist of grilled steak, rather than turkey, but whoever complained about steak?  (Especially when one gets a turkey on Thanksgiving Day with the other set of parents.)  Consequently, I darted off to Faneuil Hall to buy some Godiva truffles to bring Mike’s parents . . . and that’s where I encountered The Shoe Temptress.

The Shoe Temptress is, of course, a cunning little minx who shares my pocketbook.  She loooooooooves pretty shoes, and sexy shoes, and butt-kicking shoes; I restrain her as best I can but sometimes tis a losing battle.  Like, say, any time I wander into DSW.  And, damn, did these catch her eye:

Shoe Temptress:  WANT!!!!!!

Lissa: No!  Bad Temptress!

Shoe Temptress:  WANT!!!!!!

Lissa:  No!  They’re too expensive!

Shoe Temptress:  They’re eighty dollars cheaper than they were originally listed!  WANT!!!!!!

Lissa:  No!  You have many pairs of boots!

Shoe Temptress:  But these are Crocs!  That makes them practical!  And comfortable!  WANT!!!!!!

Lissa:  RUN AWAY!!!!

And I did.

But if anyone wants to get me an expensive Christmas present, I wear a size 8.

🙂

 

Three-picture Thursday: 11/06/08

I’m really not a fan of time changes, y’all.  I mean, sure, it’s lovely to have an extra hour of sleep on a random fall evening, but then you pay for it in the spring and it’s like you didn’t gain anything.  Plus, now that I volunteer Sundays at the Lissaville (Home of the Evil Conservatives) Animal Shelter, I can’t bank that hour until Monday morning when it would actually be helpful.

But my true disappointment this year stemmed from abruptly losing my evening scenery.  See, the train I take into Boston goes across a tidal basin (um, lake?  bay?  marsh?) and I’ve gotten into the habit of watching it morning and evening.  I’m fascinated by the low-tide-high-tide changes and, while I’ve not yet worked out the actual tidal schedule, I have high hopes that one day I will do so.  However, it will have to wait till spring, as there are not sufficient lights to see anything but a dark, glimmering mass during my evening commutes.  It went from a glorious sunset-reflecting wildlife-attracting piece of eye candy to . . . shiny black.  Boo!  Ah well, this is what I still get to see in the morning:  (If you click to embiggen, check the right side and you can see it’s not high tide.)

Breda, I hope you won’t be offended that this made me think of you, but look, everyone — you may be missing a body part but SO WHAT, you can achieve your dreams!  We would hope that dream is to marry a nice Mike and be a librarian, but, hey, if it’s to be an anorexic junkie-looking fashion model — yes, you can!  Of course, you’d need to have a magical levitation system so you don’t fall over . . .

I would seriously shriek in fright and run away crying (and feeling for weapons) if this ever came towards me.  Wouldn’t you?  (Whereas Breda — I’d invite her over for fresh-baked bread and some IPA.  In fact — consider the invitation issued, and open-ended.)

Finally, to provide some nice mind-bleach as relief to the scary woman above, yet another beloved member of my shoe collection:

Yes, they have some scuff marks.  You know what?  I BET YOU’VE GOT SOME SCUFF MARKS TOO, BUDDY, SO JUDGE NOT AND STEP OFF.

EDIT: You know, the more I look at that fashion model the more I shake my head.  It’s not even the bungled Photoshop, although that’s entertaining.  How on earth did unrealistic plastic painfully skinny women become a beauty ideal?  Look at that woman’s calf — you could snap it by whacking it with a feather duster!  Give me Kim’s women, any day.

Three-picture Thursday: 10/23/08

These boots are made for walking.  Or strutting.  Or simply lounging about.

In honor of the massive shoe-fetish-indulgence the media’s been putting on Palin . . .

 . . . I would like to share some of my nearest-and-dearest with y’all.

These are my usual commuter boots; classy-but-sturdy, comfortable for walking and standing and occasionally running across the street:

Whereas the next set?  Totally impractical.  Boots to wear out to a dinner, NOT to tackle the cobblestones outside Faneuil Hall:

And finally, my SUPER-practical black boots.  They’re actually wonderful snow-shoveling boots because they’ve knee-high and have awesome traction.  They’re also terrific crotch-kicking boots, but, well, you knew that without being told.  (Click to embiggen.  Really.  Do it.)

Awwwww yeah, baby.  Lara Croft meets Catherine Banning.  You know you want them 🙂

(h/t Acefor the Palin-shoes)

P.S. I’ve actually got one more pair of knee-high black boots.  Maybe next week?