Jack Frost Nipping at My Nads

2 degrees at about 7am. That's not counting the wind chill.

~*~

My robe began coming apart at the seams. Being intrepid...and perhaps a bit nuts...I took it apart and used it as a template for a new one. That's how I spent my weekend...sewing a robe.

~*~

I hate to fly. Back when I did fly (rarely) I'd pop a diazepam and have some drinks just so I wouldn't claw my way out of my own skin. My plan for AWP was to drive to Baltimore and take the Amtrak commuter line up to NYC and back after the conference. Brian's apt is conveniently close the station. There were a few nervous days last week when he pointed out that there might be an Amtrak strike at the end of the month. Luckily this has been diverted. I can proceed as scheduled...this makes me unutterably happy.

~*~

Collin asked about my shoes in an earlier comment so here they are. The last pair is not exactly right...the detailing on mine is a natural/beige seude with just a hint of burgundy stitching.

Skechers Angelino

Skechers Crusades

Kenneth Cole Unlisted, Updated Square-Toe


Skechers...Mystery shoe.

Imelda From the Void

Maybe it's because way back in August of 197- I was born in the Philippines and they were our government-approved dictators; maybe because she and Ferdinand became cultural touchstones in the 80s just at the time I was developing my sense of irony and love of schadenfreude and they weren't so low rent Southern as Jim and Tammy Faye (all that Jesus, all that crying, all that mascara, all that hair...it was like Dynasty on a budget just with more prayer, more bad music and fewer cat fights); maybe it's just because I find saying the words "Imelda Marcos" pleasurable...do it, say the words softly to yourself, pay attention to how your mouth moves...it's lovely, really. Maybe.

Or maybe it was the shoes. The breathless reporting after they were run out of the country of people finding thousands of pairs of shoes and hundreds of matching black panty sets. Lately Imelda's been on my mind, because I've become shoe obsessed--looking online, actually going to brick and mortar stores, wishing I still got catalogs in the mail. My urge for shoes is simply short-handed as "inner Imelda." And lately, bunnies, my inner Imelda has grown strong. It's not out of control yet. Roughly a pair of shoes every two weeks since November...that's not so bad, right?

I'll leave you with some words of wisdom from the doyenne of graft herself: "I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty."

Shoes, Shoes, Little Black Shoes

the Capezio 650 character shoe

Years ago, I was a Kit-Kat girl in a production of Cabaret at my alma mater (and yes I did wear them with black fishnets like those above). The director wanted a man in drag and she asked me if I'd do it, since she didn't think any of the college boys would be comfortable. I wasn't particularly comfortable with it either (there's a reason I'm not a drag queen...I'm one uuuuuuugly woman.) But I said I would--it seemed like a lark. I knew I could walk and dance in heels but had never tried it in a real pair of dance shoes. So I ordered a pair like those pictured above in an 11. They were remarkably comfortable, I just need a little bit of moleskin at the heel to prevent blisters.

I dragged them out of storage over the weekend for a number I'm doing in South Pacific. They need some polish and edge dressing to cover scuffs from that production; they also need to be stretched a little in the toe but are still remarkably comfortable (yes, I've been wearing them around the house today to reacclimate myself.) Dance rehearsals start next week...I'm oddly excited. They make my calf muscles look great.