~tiffanypk

High heels and blisters

I don't usually wear heels. When I did yesterday, it proved to be a bad idea (again). I spent about 2 hours in them, more than half of which I was sitting in Cheescake Factory. And, to call them heels would probably put shame to "real" heels, in which my mom claims she used to run. Apparently, that part of the genes was lost and never passed onto me. Poor feet, they haven't seen blisters since last time I wore heels. Supposedly high heels originated as male footwear in about the 1500's - the thought of which suddenly reminded me of the scene from "My Sassy Girl," where that poor guy was forced to switch shoes with his girlfriend...

Manly driving

Last week, we went out to run some errands. When we got home and parked, Eric said, "Why do you gas and break so manly?" Since I didn't know how to respond, I just said, "I don't drive manly; you just drive like a girl." I think words have stopped going through my brain before they come out of my mouth.

3 pairs of shoes

Last year, Jon was kind enough to offer me rides to Alta Bates. One time I waited for him to pick up something at his apartment, I saw about a dozen pairs of shoes lined up in the hallway.

Me: "Are these all your shoes?!"
Jon: "Yeah"
Me: "Oh. Why so many?"
Jon: "What do you mean? How many pairs do you have?"
Me: "...3"
Jon: "..."

Incidences such as these and others like A-Guy-Who-Is-Stuck-Inside-A-Girl's-Body, Low-Maintenance-Is-A-Good-Thing, and etc. have allowed me to appreciate being born into the 20th century instead of into the Middle Ages. At least I know that when I become a spinster living with my 2 goldfish, I won't be burned as a witch