.. will be the death of me.
Shopping with Miranda on Friday was perhaps a little too successful, and while I didn’t do nearly as much damage as she did, I came home with more shoes than I left with. I am continuing my endeavor to learn how to walk in things with a heel, and to this end, I am now the delighted owner of these:
They are ridiculous, and I am absolutely in love with them.
Also fabulous are these:
I can appreciate the irony of my being catty about a massive shoe sale then spending my day off buying shoes, but I frankly do not care – CUTE SHOES! Hooray!
The rest of my weekend was much lower key than I had originally planned. Saturday morning saw Ed and I at the Tomahawk with Miranda, Reilly, and Darren – after which we parted ways so Ed and I could do some scooter stuff like get some oil for him (fail) and a new battery for me (win). We were home for the afternoon, where my plans to do some cleaning fell away to the siren song of my bed – I napped. When I woke up I found that M&R had spent THEIR afternoon buying a friggin’ giant car, so obviously a celebration was in order. We scooted to The Eatery for some good times, then perused the bookstore (cheap books make my pants tight in a wonderful way). Clearly, we are a wild party.
On Sunday, I did nothing. I wanted to go to the 420 celebrations at the Art Gallery, but a minor anxiety attack in the morning made those plans seem like a very, very bad idea. Instead, Ed and I rode around the North Shore for a while to break in his new cylinder and to pick up my new Pokemans. I wish I could have laughed at the seething mass of humanity, but it just wasn’t in me. There was more napping, a little bit of cleaning, and lots of video games – a normal weekend, ‘round these parts.
If the weather would hurry up and be warm already, I could spend a lot more time being fabulous outside.
Hey, are down comforters evil?