*points thumbs at self* THIS cat!

I have a tummy which is very full and is kind of hurty. This evening, a veritable pack of us travelled to a Moroccan eatery called "Casablanca", in Delaware. Wee Ninja was supposed to be in attendance, but she never showed up. This causes me worry, as the last communication from her was "I'm leaving right now!"

The interior of this place was just simply amazing. I want my home to look like that, with many ruby red pillows and tapestry couches and huge, hanging brass lamps with twinkling coloured glass. No hookah pipes to be found (as Delaware is completely non smoking in public now), but my house would have one or two.

Five or six courses of food? I didn't eat the couscous, as I'm not down with that. Especially when there are chick peas involved. "Cheggis" as my mother has called them my entire life, though I've never met another individual who uses that term. Eating with out fingers, no utensils available, quite savage. But, very enjoyable.

I was full of decadence and smiles. Giggling with Stefanie and Justin is a pleasure I haven't had for so long, so I stock up on it when I am able. She and I got into each other's heads far too many times, which caused more laughter.

Driving and driving and trance beats and dark skies. I could have gone on at this all night. Bellydancers and the Engineer being coerced into joining them. I miss my zills. I should dig them out of their hibernation.

What were you saying about knowing how to bellydance, Tara?

I was saying that I do not dance in public. Ever.

At least, not without a bottle of wine ingested. For fortitude. And courage.

I'm still smiley and glowey from New Year's Eve, as chemical induced as it was. Thee Pumpkin Girl made a grand connection this evening of equating those substances to a reset button, and how she feels more centered after doing it. I agree completely. I feel reset. More at ease and on track. My knitting grows in leaps and bounds, soon I'll have to learn how to bind off.

Stomach hurty, still. Ow.
I shall take a lavender bath and read.

while colour lights up your face

am in mourning. Full scale, wailing and gnashing my teeth. Rending my hair.

My favourite shoes broke today, whilst out grocery shopping with my mother and the Engineer.

Well. Actually, just the one broke. But, one is bad enough. Especially when it was the goodone. I had recently fixed the left shoe, whose upper was separating from the sole and heel. The right shoe had no damage to it, whatsoever. And that was the one which broke today.

The strap (these shoes are Mary Janes, Demonia black vinyl bubble toe platform Mary Janes to be specific) snapped.

>:O

So, not only did I have the dubious pleasure of finishing the marketing (as well as carting all the grocery bags into the house) with a flappy shoe, but it also had to be my favourite shoes which I had only fixed a week or so ago.

This is the second pair of these I've been through. The first pair were bought two years or so ago, when Richard was visiting me. They died the death of upper leaving the lower during a trip to New York to see Nick Cave in concert. This second pair I special ordered from another store (they're discontinued) and they originally broke about a year ago. The opposite shoe, mind you, from the first pair. If I had kept the first pair, I could have had a complete set and no worries!

After the second pair originally broke, I didn't throw them out. I kept them on my shoe shelf in my bedroom in the hopes that one day I would find glue strong enough to fix them. Which I did. And fixed them I did, last week. Then this bitch of a strap has to break on me.

I have a whole bag full of shoes that need to be repaired. All of them platform Mary Janes (are you sensing a pattern here?). I just need to find a shoe repair store now. Two pairs have snapped buckles (one of these, the red and black Mary Janes, I had only worn twice before the buckle broke on me). And another two pairs have broken straps.

*cry*




I can't believe I just wrote an entire entry about SHOES. I think I need an intervention.