My over-emotional attachment to my shoes..........

       I have this weird relationship with my shoes. I have this super odd attachment to them. I can recall where i got a pair from, what i was doing before I got them, how much they were, who i was with, how long it took me to find them, what else i considered before i bought them..... I just have an insane love for what I know best I suppose....

  so with that said... with my rain man-like ability to recall seemingly random facts about useless shit... I'll explain something I touched on in a previous post.........



I'd like to introduce you to........

These.................are my "Yellow Shoes Of Death".........

  I don't say these are my yellow shoes of death because their so fucking awesome (which they are... trust me).... I say it because..... well....ok... here it goes...... These were the shoes I was wearing the day i found out my Mother had Died.... it was the FIRST time i had ever worn them (got them on ebay.... 29.78 *shipping included* after a 3 week search for "the perfect yellow heel"... I also bought a pair of giraffe print double platform heels from a different seller...) I fucking loved them... and waited for the perfect time to wear them to work... I'd just bought the cutest yellow bolero jacket that matched the sunny yellow color of these shoes....

        And then I was walking to my car to go make the bank deposits for the retail stores My office owned in the area..... and I noticed my mama had called and left a voice mail........ so I listened to it while I was walking to the car............ and it wasn't my mama.......... it was my 21 year old brother telling me that our mom had died...... my mother..... who I just called 2 days before.. and didn't talk to because my brother had said she was sick and didn't feel good.. had died..... my mother had laid down at the end of her bed... leaned back and seemingly fell asleep......... but never woke up.........
    Needless to say.......... when I finally got home that day... I'd taken my shoes off and put them in the closet.... and laid down to cry myself out a little.... and I've never had these shoes on my feet again.... never even put them on to see if they're still as awesome as I remember...


 So there you go... now you know about "the yellow shoes of death"........... and honestly...... I kinda feel better finally sharing that information... and looking at my shoes on the floor in front of me as I write this... I kinda want to put them on.... but a part of me is still scared that maybe they hold some kind of odd ass bad luck... I dunno... we'll see...

........... I also remember every pair of shoes that my honey, J, has bought me. I remember the shoes I had when I was little (hand-me-down vans slip ons.... before they were fucking popular... and I hated them and cried every time I was forced to put them on because they were BOYS shoes).... and I ESPECIALLY remember the shoes that have been RUINED since I got my dog, Ziggy.

This is Ziggy Clarke.... and don't be fooled by that fucking face... he's a dream smasher....

  My bug as eaten three pairs of flip flops (fuck em those shits are a dime a dozen as far as i am concerned. One pair of Steve Madden Purple peep toe strappy sandals

These... he ate these...

He fucken ate the purple ones after id worn them FOR THE FIRST FUCKING TIME!!!!!! But I'd worn them to a funeral... so it must be something about my "sad" shoes that he doesn't like.. fuck if I know... or maybe hes a douche...

I have another pair of shoes I wore the day I met my honey that I love and cherish and have only worn twice since meeting him (I don't want to fuck em up! They have memories now!)

The Purple Pair of ZiggySoHo Heels (yes i loved them so much I got them in black too. I haven't even worn the black ones)

So not all my shoes are"sad" but that is usually the reason I cant wear them anymore.


Enough of this sad crap..... next week will be about THE SEARCH FOR THE PERFECT SHOE... I am currently in the market for a pair of Yellow heels... go figure... but it is summer after all ;)


        I know this wasn't even half as long as last weeks long ass rant and rave... and you may think "bitch was a day late to post and all she did was tell us the death shoe story"........... but thinking about that really takes allot out of me... it was my mama... I miss her every day. Every Single Fucking Day. She was the only person in this world, (besides J (but I found him after we'd both lost BOTH of our parents)) who loves me for me. She loved me despite my fucking gratuitous cussing... she loved me despite my cold heart and inability to see things from other peoples perspective. And she loved my shoes and loved hearing my stories that I would tell about how I got them and who I had to fight to get them....


  So until next week... look through your closet and see what memories may be evoked by the shoes that are held in there... you'd be surprised...

                 Elizabeth Mae Clarke