A story in pictures, if you will.




I never spend a lot of money on shoes, unless I know I will wear them over and over again. I once walked into a girls' closet and she had a wall of fancy heels. I have to admit it was one of the most lovely sights I had seen in my life, but I knew that if I had such shoes, they would just be for show. My mom's 5'11, and I never saw her in heels once growing up. I think that had a big influence in my shoe preference, even though I'm only 5'7". Anyway, I showed these new white mocasin flats I bought to Matt on Friday and asked what he thought. I knew he wouldn't like them; he always makes fun of my teacher-y, comfy flats that I've been collecting since August.


I'm begining to see what he means. I am addicted to flats, especially if they have bows on them. In 5 years I will probably kick my own ass for being such a priss, but I often catch myself looking at my feet as I walk down the hall at work. The bows just make me happy. On Friday he had a bet with me that if someone complemented my new white flats, he would give me 5 bucks. He got antsy that no one had said anything about my shoes, he asked his friend's girlfriend who I must say, has HORRIBLE taste. She skeptically looked at my feet and said, " Don't make me answer any questions." The way she said it, and the following events...well, let's just say I've never been in a physical fight. Not even close! And yet, somehow, at Texas Jive playing pool with some friends...I was compelled to fight this girl for the honor of my dorky white shoes.

Is working in the 'hood rubbing off on me? I am so ashamed.

Matt made it all better, and said I was still beautiful even though I had "lame taste in shoes". ( I don't think he should be talking....he's 26 and dresses like a teen-age American Eagle model).





We went dancing last night with Nathan, Madeline, and Julie. I love hanging out with them because we're all pretty much in the "mental health" profession. Translation: our jobs with crazy people/kids makes us crazy as well.




There was no one on the floor, so Julie ran up to the DJ's and shouted " MICHAEL!!! PLAY MICHAEL!!" I was embarassed...felt like a middle school dance. Well, MJ's 'thriller' came on and we soon forgot about the dorkiness of it all. Everybody was dancing. They played " don't stop til you get enough" and "billie jean". Dancing is still is new thing to me. I was always told I sucked at it, so I abstained...if I went to a club it was to see a band, and I was restricted to that white-kid head bob and sway. Matt has definitely brought the dancer out in me. I'm not saying I'm good, but I don't care. Booty-shakin' is awesome.



I'm going to start reading One Hundred Years of Solitude tomorrow. I'm excited; it's supposed to be good. :)