Cottony Cotton

Tomorrow is the hubby's and my 2nd anniversary.  We actually have plans, so in case I don't get around to posting tomorrow, I thought I'd do it now.  And I'm even posting relatively early - I should have waited until my usual time and then it really would be our anniversary.  In last year's post I mentioned how we spent the morning with me working on a sermon and the hubby doing his fantasy football draft.  We spent this morning almost the same way, but instead of a sermon, I worked on THE LIST.  We also watched Sharknado and many of my brain cells died.  Now we are watching the original Star Trek episodes, which are awesome and hilarious.  We are just soooo romantical.  

Apparently the appropriate gift for the 2nd anniversary is cotton.  This makes me want to make a sheep out of cotton balls for the hubby.  Or maybe a cotton ball snowman.  I'm sure he would really loooove either gift.  Instead, my gift to you is cotton shoes:

Mary Janes in lots of colors!

Gingham Mary Janes.  I think I'm liking cotton shoes.

Yep, definitely liking.  Rainbow stripes! Want them.

Awwww...stripey baby shoes.

More stripey baby shoes!

I've posted these before, but cotton heels!  And turquoise.  You know I couldn't resist.

Definitely couldn't resist these.  Holy buckets are these adorable.  Don't you think the hubby should buy me these as an anniversary gift?

Back to my romantic evening of enjoying William Shatner's fantastically bad acting.

Gritty

I don't really believe that absolutely everything happens for a reason, but it is interesting to look back at things and see how they've influenced my life after.  For instance, living in Texas for 3 years taught me how to eat grits.  There was a woman at church (I think her name was Betty, or some other appropriate Lutheran name) who always brought cheese grits to potlucks.  The recipe was in the church cookbook, so I started making it myself.  Although I changed the Velveeta to cheddar, which probably makes me less cool in the grits world.  Want to know what makes me REALLY uncool in the grits world?  I love to eat them with dried cranberries, brown sugar, and soy or almond milk.  This is a sacrilege, apparently.  You're supposed to eat them with your eggs and sausage, or plain with butter and salt.  What the heck am I telling you all of this for?  Because the hubby takes his grits very seriously.  He pretends he doesn't know about the cranberries and brown sugar so he doesn't have to divorce me, and I am perfectly capable of eating grits for breakfast with eggs and sausage because of my time in Texas.  (We had grits for breakfast this morning, hence this looooong explanation)  I'm not saying I would never have tried grits had I not lived in TX, but the cheese grits definitely eased me in.  Otherwise I'm pretty sure cereal mixed with eggs would have grossed me out completely.  So.  In honor of those 3 years, here are some Texas shoes for you:

University of Texas golf shoes.  I don't know if they are official golf shoes, or just golf shoes for a UT fan.  I do know that UT fans are crazy (don't hit me, UT fans, you know I love you).

Awwww...for your baby UT fan.  Everything is cuter on teeny tiny shoes.

Can't include UT without including Texas A&M, because their fans are just as crazy.  When I first moved to Texas I coudn't figure out why so many cars had  ATM stickers (I was thinking Automatic Teller Machine).  Yes, I was a dork who knew nothing about sports.

I always like the sparkly shoes.  If  I were to become a rabid sports fan, I would wear sparkly shoes in the colors of the team of my choice.

I actually went to a few Rangers games.  They were fun in that boring live baseball kind of way.  I like baseball, it's just slow, so then I don't pay attention and always miss when something exciting happens.

 

Finally!  Some Texas shoes that don't have anything to do with sports!

Aaaaaand back to sports.  I've already posted these, since the Cowboys are the hubby's favorite football team.  See?  Sparkly heels.  Fun.  Weird, but fun.

 

I won't leave out the Houston Texans.  Shut up, sports fans.  I don't care if you hate the Texans or you miss the Oilers, or you're just grumpy because someone peed in your cheerios this morning.  Man, sports fans are sooooo touchy.

Texas.  Met some really good friends there, got to live in a different part of the country, don't want to move back there.  I so did not fit in there.  But, I got to live with my awesome aunt!  And it taught me to eat grits!  And drink like a fish, but that is a completely different post...

Sharks

Did you watch Shark Week?  Do you watch it every year?  I didn't watch this year, but turned the TV on tonight and saw a show about alien sharks.  I didn't really stick around to find out why they are alien sharks.  I'm sort of fascinated by sharks, in a freaked out kind of way.  Growing up in MT I didn't really have to fear sharks (I was more scared of the Flathead Lake Monster).  But watching any show where people are in the water with sharks makes me heart pound a little bit.  I've never even seen the movie Jaws, but the producers of shark shows always do a good job of building up suspense and intensity.  Hence the freaked out feeling.  I do, however, find it interesting just how many different kinds of sharks there are out there.  Still don't want to swim with them.  Tonight I'm bringing you shark shoes instead of shark week.

I would qualify these as alien sharks.  I love the color (do sharks come in turquoise?).  They look more like snakes or eels or maybe even piranhas.  Sneelanhas?

Sharkigator!  Sharkodile?  Or is it just me who thinks this looks like a lurking alligator (or crocodile...I don't remember which has which kind of teeth)?

 

 These are very sweet.

I think I've had these on here before, but they still crack me up.  I would wear these to a shark week party.  You know.  Like you do.  Would you call these peep-heel?

 

Oh.  My.  God.  Who the HELL thought this was a good idea?

Thank goodness.  I needed a little whimsy after that last pair.

A little more whimsy.  These sharks look like they are telling each other jokes.  These are my kind of sharks.

I'm going back to watching the shark-free food network now.

Same Old Same Old

I know, I know.  It's been awhile since I posted.  It's just that my days are so very similar right now that I don't often find much inspiration for writing.  There are slight variations, of course, but each day tends to involve getting up with the hubby around 5 am, then going back to sleep; yelling at puppies; snuggling puppies; giving dragons baths (they like to poop in water, so they get put in the tub everyday, which has the added bonus of keeping the cage clean, but which then turns the tub into a dragon toilet.  Poop soup, as I like to call it.  And the hubby wonders why I don't like taking baths in our tub anymore...); housework, running errands, working on THE LIST (3,115 lines and counting), paying/worrying about bills, obsessing over the completely strange things the depression has caused me to obsess over; etc, etc.  The only variations are when I go to the library, which is awesome, or when I have doctor's appointments, which is less so.  This week I went to the dentist and got the news that I have to get my wisdom teeth out.  Woohoo!  This was less than inspiring in terms of shoes.  Occasionally I do something with a friend, or something with the hubby when he is home.  But for the most part I have been idea-less for posts. I have actually taken up a new project lately, though:

Instead of throwing old t-shirts away, I cut them up and made a rug.  My grandmother used to make beautiful rag rugs, so I thought I'd give it a try.  Hers were much, much better, but I thought for a first attempt this wasn't too bad, even if it won't lie flat because I screwed up a few places.  But I think I've learned how to avoid that for the next rug.  This is 8 t-shirts, except for that row between the green and the yellow and that's small scraps in several colors of another material.  Surprisingly, the hubby didn't freak out about how colorful it is.  Maybe because I put it in the garage in front of the door coming into the house.  He just said, "what's this mat thing?"  I told him and he said, "oh, so I'm supposed to step on it?"  Apparently last night he had stepped OVER it.  Which is kind of sweet.  And  little weird.

So...rugs and shoes.  I didn't deliberately match my shoes with the rug, it was a coincidence, I wanted my feet for a little perspective.  Chalupah is there in the corner, appearing in his first photo bomb.

 

Cute, but I don't think I'm ready for a shoe rug.  Maybe when I was single I would have done a shoe-themed bathroom and used this as a bath mat.

 Very cute.  But why are there bugs on the checker board?  I might consider this for PB's potential room, but really could d without the bugs.  Except for the dragonflies.  Those can stay.

Very similar to the first one, but I like the black background better.

Oh dear.  These are actually kind of cute, but I can't get past the texture.  Maybe they're softer than they look, but I would think rug shoes would be really stiff.

 

Aaaaaand no.  Do you think there is a carpet bag to match these?  Yikes.

I can't guarantee I'll be better about posting regularly, but I will do my best.

More Plaid

I've been listening to an audiobook with a lot of Scottish people in it, so tonight's post will be about plaid.  Blue plaid, to be precise, as it's my blog and I like blue.  And plaid.  And Scots.

I love these.  Want them.  Think I could pull them off.

If it weren't for the yellow stripe, these could be McKenzie plaid (my mom's maiden name).  I still can't find any McKenzie plaid shoes, which is just rude.  Would someone PLEASE get on that?

 

I like this color combination.  For some reason, these shoes remind me of Christmas.

I have a skirt in a plaid very similar to this.  Stupid slingbacks.

I like these, too, although not as much as the first pair of canvas tennies.

Awww...the PB needs BOTH of these adorable pairs of blue plaid shoes.

See?  They make McKenzie plaid PANTS for the love of Pete.  Where are my shoes?  Rude.  Also, I think my brother needs these.  He could wear them for the times when the car seat is too cold for his kilt (as a man he forgets to tuck his skirt under him before sitting.  (heehee)).

Bright

I haven't posted about the disability process for a long time because I didn't really know what to say.  I received word several weeks ago (by an insanely annoyingly cheerful voicemail) that my disability had been declined.  No reason was given.  I called my therapist, and it turned out that she had gotten a 5 page letter outlining why it was declined.  So my first annoyance was that she got a very detailed explanation, and I got psycho, cheery woman.  There was a lot of reasons and justifications given, but what it boiled down to in the end was that I'm not suicidal.  I'm still so pissed off I'm not sure what to say.  My first thought was, and always is, what?  I should attempt suicide so that they'll believe I'm actually depressed?  I kind of thought my NOT being suicidal was a good thing.  I understand that they have to have a process in place to vet these types of claims.  I also used to work in a health insurance company and was weekly disgusted by the claims managers annoyance at ever having to pay out any kind of money for any reason.  What really makes me angry is that there is nothing before that last and very final step.  Shouldn't they want to work with a person so that she doesn't get to that place?  Depression and mental illness still have such a stigma in this country.  They aren't understood and are often ignored or their importance played down.  Many people think they are giving me good advice when they say things like, "just think happy thoughts and you'll be happy," or "just get out and do something so you'll feel better."  They aren't wrong, exactly, but they aren't helpful, either.  And they clearly don't know what it's like to try and battle the horrible mind and body numbing voices in one's head day after day.  It starts to feel like it would be easier to stop fighting and let the voices win, whether that's something permanent, or just deciding that staying in bed for a day or a week.  I had to wait so long to write about this so it wasn't a post with the f bomb dropped every few words.

If you've stuck with me this far, you're probably wondering about the title of this post and how it can possibly go with that first paragraph.  The truth is, there are always moments of brightness in our darkness.  I had one of those bright moments today.  A friend from church had given me a gift certificate for a massage (she is a massage therapist), and I finally got around to using it today.  Holy buckets, but it HURT.  But in the good way of neglected and abused muscles getting some love and attention.  My lack of yoga definitely showed up in my body, and my friend kept making somewhat shocked comments about how tight I was all over (in a loving way).  I am grateful that she reminded me last week I needed to use my gift certificate, and even more grateful for the hour and a half of pampering and conversation I had today.  A definite bright spot.

And what's brighter than neon?  Actually, I don't know...there probably is something brighter.  But it was a lame attempt at a segue, so let's just look at shoes, ok?

I think these are all horrible in an 80s day glo sort of way.  And I think they are all fabulous in a crazy, bright, fun 80s kind of way.

I hope you had many bright spots in your day today, and that you, in turn, were able to be a bright spot for someone else.

BFF's Birthday

Today is the BFF's birthday!  (For more background, see last year's post)  I have been thinking a lot of her the last few days, not only because of her birthday, but also because of her love of Madeleine L'Engle.  I am FINALLY on board that train, so she doesn't have to think I'm a total dork.  Actually, she thinks I'm a total dork for many many reasons, but that's OK.  She's also a dork and I love her to the moon and back.  Anyhoodle, as I was searching for shoes for yesterday's post I kept coming across shoes painted with Van Gogh's Starry Night.  This is one of the BFF's favorite paintings, so how appropriate that it came up in the context of one of her favorite authors?  So, in honor of my bestest friend in the whole wide world, here are shoes just for her:

I like that there's lots of blue in all of these shoes.  The BFF pretty much never wears heels, though.

She might be on board with these, though.  I love heels, but I like these better than the first pair.

Not really her style, either.  But pretty, and with a lot more the painting visible.

They even come in kid sizes!  Clearly the nephew needs a pair so he can match his mom.

I really like these.  A lot more abstract than the rest of the shoes, but I love the colors with the solid black shoe for background.

 

Now THESE are the BFF's style.  Too bad, like all flip flops, you have to step on the pretty part so no one can see it.

Happy Birthday, BFF!  Thanks for a fabulous 18 years of laughter and friendship.  You know I listened to The Beatles while writing this post, right?