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Thursday, March 22, 2012

I Don't Get

Stilettos. High heels. High heeled boots in animal print, rhinestones, or alligator. High heels with pointy toes. High heels at the mall. High heels to work. High heels. Ever.

Crushes on celebrities. Collecting images of "hot guys" from the movies or some other fantastical pseudo reality.

Most lawn ornaments. I don't want a wishing well, a donkey cart full of plastic geraniums, a weird little bridge that leads to nothing, or a ceramic lioness.

Talking about nothing. People can spend hours saying "and then.....blah blah, random blah.....and then...." and it might be about something as fascinating as a commercial they saw on television or a boring novel they read, or what their third cousin's grandson wore to his third birthday. Sometimes I think I could poke my own eye out.


Wendy said...

You know what else I don't get? Buying something because a celebrity wears it.

Like....wearing the same dress as Kate Middleton will make me as skinny and glamorous and gorgeous as she is? I thinketh not. What it will do, though, is empty my bank account so there's nothing left for charity shopping. Now there's a tragedy.

And talking about high heeled shoes. I was in London yesterday, stomping about in my flat sneakers and socks...and was bowled over by the number of women hobbling along in crippling high heels - the height of which were positively dizzying. You have to do a LOT of walking in London to get anywhere..Man their feet must be in agony at night. (My feet were sore after a few hours.)

We have a garden ornament. But...he's a plastic gecko called Derek. Bought him at the charity shop because he has soulful eyes. Nowdays he sits next to the pond and talk to the goldfish.

janice said...

This time I agree with all of them. I can admire the look of a hunky screen star, but I will NEVER have a crush on one, nore will I collect photos of them.

High heels - ouch - even if I don't fall and break my ankle, still ouch.

Valerie Ruth said...

and i was going to buy you a garden gnome...

joyce said...

Wendy, I sure resonate with your definition of tragedy. As I anticipate three days at mall of America with my daughters, I bemoan the fact that it won't be spent finding every single thrift shop in the state. Boo hoo.

Maybe I'll shop for heels and garden gnomes.