I try so hard

These are the shoes I planned to wear with my red dress on Day One of the festival:


Note the bows.

 These are the shoes I planned to wear with my white dress on Day Two:

Note the polka dots.

These are the shoes I actually wore both days:

Note the mud.

Sigh.

Fictional and Mystical

Here are three unrelated totally related posts:

1) Fog

Fog is cloud that couldn't be bothered to float 'cause it's that goddamn lazy. But last week I was on the skytrain going over the bridge and all of a sudden, we went from foggy to omigod milk! The windows were completely white. It was like someone had suddenly put up curtains between two stations. I was straining to try to see water, or at least the other bridge, when I saw towers. On top of clouds. Like a kingdom. In the sky. In the real world.

So it was actually two skyscrapers that happened to rise slightly above the fog. But I don't care. I saw Narnia.

2) My Geography Professor (the one who taught me that fog is caused by a large amount of QE but I don't care because it has mystical powers anyway)

Her name is Wendy. She's super cool. She makes rocks and latent energy seem less mindblowing dull. And she has this sweater with big black sleeves that looks like a cape and reminds me of the professors at Hogwarts. They flap when she moves but instead of looking ominous and way too early for Halloween, she looks like Professor McGonagall twenty years younger.

By association, that makes me Ginny Weasley.

3) The Dangers of Carpetting

I wore heels to school yesterday and for the first time all semester (it only happened once last year), the elevator in the parkade was out of order. Which meant I had to walk up three flights of stairs. Three! In heels! I was wearing little black booties and since the heels have worn right down to the metal, they sound like tap shoes. I don't click, I tap. It's not the sound I was going for but now I really want to own a pair of tap shoes so I can tap legitimately. Also so I can look at a dance floor and say, "I'd tap that."

As I was heading to Calculus, humming AVPM's To Dance Again, I turned down the North corridor and suddenly, no tap! Carpetting everywhere! All the pain of squished toes and popped blisters and people couldn't even hear me coming!

How is this related to fictional, mystical places thereby making this not just a misplaced rant?

Uhh... If I were to create a fictional, mystical place, part of the mysticism would be in the non-carpetted flooring.

See what I did there? Three totally related posts :D

Letter to Me

Yesterday, my iPod kept playing 'Letter to Me' by Brad Paisley and it got me thinking.

Two years ago, I had to write a letter from future-me to present-me and I wrote stupid advice mixed in with stuff only I would understand. Apparently, my teachers didn't understand because I didn't get a very good mark, but now I know what I would really write.

See, if future-me is alive to write the letter, then present-me can't die. Or sustain serious injury. Or be greatly altered enough in any way that may influence what future-me wrote in the letter, or the fact that future-me did write the letter.

I love time travel conundrums.

So my solution is this: test it out. Included in the letter would be some very distinct event, that present-me would then desperately try to avoid. If by some quirk of fate and despite all of present-me's best efforts, the event still happens, then I would know that I cannot alter anything that's already happened. (PS: this is the same time travel theory in The Traveller's Wife.)

So essentially, I could jump off a cliff and not die. Specifically, I couldn't even get injured, physically or mentally.

Present-me would be indestructable.

I feel like this post has become too geeky.

Look, shoes!

Totally worth it.

Cinderella had it wrong.

If life gives you pumpkins, don't make a carriage. Make shoes.

And throw out the lemons.

That's a life lesson.

This site made me smile.

Click Here for more.