Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Yeah I'm Pregnant & Barefoot... Go Ahead, Make a Freaking Joke, Smart Ass

Just for the record, I'm on a shoe strike. I know that I'll probably lose my woman card for saying that, but I don't freaking care. Shoes suck. Shoes are the devil. And I'm no longer going to abide by their shoe rules.

Now, I admit I've never been a shoe girl. I own maybe a dozen pair total of sandals, dressy shoes, boots, workout shoes and flip flops. That's not a dozen of each. That's a dozen total.

I've heard of Manolo Blahnik, thanks to Sex and the City. But I can barely warrant spending 30 bucks on a pair of shoes, so the idea of something that costs more than my entire collection of shoes blows me away.

The point is, even though I've never been gaga for shoes, I've never been anti-shoes before either. I mean, really, there has always seemed to be more important causes for me to take up if I was going to make this my cause. Like, I don't know... Anti-poverty or anti-cancer maybe? It just seems it'd be easier to make myself be heard that way.

But I'm not going to take the easy route no more. No sir-ree!

From now on, I am refusing to wear shoes. And you should too. Because they are evil and they suck and they make my sausage feet hurt.

Because in case you didn't know, I have sausage feet now. Not just sausage toes. No. My feet figured that ressembling bratwursts looked like fun and they were getting jipped. And so now they've swollen up like somebody blew really hard into both of my pinky toes.

Now, here's something I'm going to tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else. I'm really a size 7 1/2 when it comes to shoes. But I've been able to squeeze myself into a 7 if a cheap pair of shoes that was cute and on clearance was available. Except that my new fat feet are probably a size 8 or 8 1/2. So trying to squeeze them into my shoes makes me feel like one of the ugly ass stepsisters in Cinderella desperate to get the prince (little known fact: in the original written story of Cinderella, the stepsisters cut off their toes to try to fit in the glass slipper. Yeah, I'm full of useful trivia like that.) I can no longer fit in my close toed dressy shoes that I usually wear to meetings. I mean, technically I can. But the pain becomes excruciating within two minutes and the wailing sounds I make during the entire meeting freaks my clients out.

So today, since I had a meeting, I figured that I'd wear my dressy sandals (which are unworn by the way because I was keeping them for my sister-in-law's wedding later this year) figuring that those would be fine, since there was less shoe to stifle my clown-size feet.

Yeah, except for one problem. Mother. Fucking. Straps. The thing when your feet have grown half a size and are swollen is that the straps will penetrate the first two layers of the dermis. So the straps finally nestled somewhere in the depth of the top of my feet, I think right up against all the bones.

And in case you were wondering, when the straps of your shoes barely show, because they're hidden away in layers of retained water and skin, this makes your feet look even fatter. Not an attractive look.

What I'm saying is, don't expect me to quit my day job and become a foot model just yet.

But if the horrible fashion faux-pas I made today wasn't bad enough, there was the excruciating pain of walking from my Jeep to my client's front door and then having to smile as I stood back up and walked out again.

And then, there was the excruciating pain of removing the shoes once I got home. And yes, I know I could have taken them off in the car, but I can't drive barefoot. It's one of my many quirks.

I've now been home for over an hour, and I still have deep indentations where each of the straps were. I'm pretty sure they may be permanent. And one day Baby Boy will notice my deformed feet and say "what's wrong with mama's feet?" And I'll tell him "you did this to me you little bastard! Now become a plastic surgeon so you can fix them and support me for the rest of your life. And while you're at it, do my boobs, they're starting to sag a little."

So from now on, I ain't wearing shoes no more. I going to be like Britney Spears, and go everywhere barefoot. Except public bathrooms, because that's icky on a whole new planet of ickiness. And when I'm driving, because I can't get over that.

Love,

Catwoman

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