Queenstown

Queenstown

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

The Shoes

I am sick: sneezing, stuffy, scratchy, sore, SICK. Today is the third day of this madness yet, despite the intense "suckiness" of the situation I keep trying to play it down. Yesterday, while constantly wiping my nose I took down the entire Christmas tree, shoved it in the box, and hauled it up to the attic. Today I thought it would be cool to go to the mall. I walked around the hoards of people armed with tissues and cough drops. I thought, perhaps if I pretended I wasn't sick... all of the symptoms would go away. Unfortunately they didn't. They have intensified. Maybe it would have been a good idea to just have stayed in bed.

However, while at the mall I found my DREAM SHOES. The shoes that would transform my normal life into the life people only dream of. I imagined myself sliding these amazing adidas high tops and becoming the envy of the entire art department at Harding University. The shoes would not only improve my social life, they would make me a better artist. Suddenly drawing in perspective would be easier than ever before, and matting... Shoot I could do that in my sleep.

I Snatched the demo shoe off of the shelf and held it closer to my weezing face, examining the stitching and gleam from all different angles. LOVE, was the only thing that came to mind. Who needed a boyfriend (or date for that matter), if the warm laces were wrapped securely around my stubby ankles. It wasn't just me. The shoes had mutual feelings. As I held them in my hands they looked up at me with longing and hope.

And then, I saw the price tag: $99.99. My heart sank as I set them back on the shelf. I haven't felt the same since. I left part of me back with those beautiful shoes. They looked something like the pair below. Except my shoes were purple and blue and silver and amazing.



On another, less dramatic note, today is my dad's 48th birthday! yay. Sometimes he really bugs me, but I sure am happy he exists and I love him much more than any silly pair of shoes.

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