Air Conditioned Shoes

Have I mentioned I have to go to New Orleans this week? I do. I’m going with my in-laws ’cause I’m just that awesome. I grew up close enough to New Orleans to make a day trip of it, but I haven’t been down there in many, many years and I’m looking forward to seeing the city again. If you’ve been in a blind panic about why I haven’t been posting–and OF COURSE you have–it’s because I’ve been looking for shoes.

You might be a lady who likes to shop for shoes. Bless you. Not only do I hate shopping for shoes, I’m not particularly fond of wearing them either. I’ve mentioned that in an open letter to shoes I wrote last fall. A letter shoes did not, cowards that they are, acknowledge. I have flat kite-shaped feet disfigured from many years of working in retail hell. If you are having a particularly PMS-y day and have decided you are hideous, let me know and I’ll send you a picture of my feet. Wait, I’m not going to do that because they’ll just end up on some weird fetish website. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m stopping here because I’ve hit a slippery slope and it’s hard to navigate barefoot.

I told you a while ago I got these awesome walking shoes. Yes, they are awful, but really comfortable.  Thing is, I don’t so much wear shorts, but I often wear cropped pants as I believe you should only have to look at my pasty white legs on days it’s just too damn hot to care. Lace-up shoes with cropped pants just say I’VE GIVEN UP!  WHERE’S THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY? Much like my pasty white legs, now that I think about it. No, crops and shoes with which you must wear socks should only be worn if your elementary school is having a 50’s day. Or if you’re 80 or older. Because when I hit 80, you bet your sweet bippy I’ll wear whatever I damn well please. That, as it happens, will involve caftans and turbans AND I DARE YOU TO MOCK ME.

Shoe shopping was a three day event. I had to stop for restorative beer and ice cream several times. I finally ended up with a raging hangover and a pair of shoes so hideous that they are cool. That’s what the dude at the outdoors store told me, and I believe him because on his off days he climbs stuff. Climbing stuff is cool.  Upon discovering that the forecast for New Orleans is not just a tropical storm but also record heat, I’ve decided I do not give one fine rat’s ass what I look like. I’ll look like the poster child for the Ugly American Tourist if it’s comfortable. I just heard from a friend who is down there right now and she told me not to pack clothes. It’s just that hot. Another friend told me to take a spritz bottle of water, but I’m afraid it will boil in my purse. What I really want to do is lock myself in an air conditioned hotel room, drink white wine, and read. But that’s pretty much what I want to do all the time, so I don’t know that I can make a vacation of it. (I can make a vacation of it.)

I’m going to try to post at least some pictures while I’m gone, but I’m sure I’ll be quite busy being fabulous in my air conditioned shoes.

6 Comments Add yours

  1. Jessica says:

    For the record, I too can make a vacation out of drinking white wine and reading books. In fact, I do so each August, when I retire to a little place in Northern Michigan without modern conveniences like telephones and tv’s. It has indoor plumbing, a great chef, and killer sunsets over Lake Michigan. It’s all I need.

    1. Susan says:

      Heaven. That right there is heaven.

  2. don’t forget your fanny pack

    1. Susan says:

      Like that would ever happen. I sleep in it.

  3. desicubs says:

    You haven’t even left for New Orleans yet and I’m already sick of you bitching about the heat.

    1. Susan says:

      I have not yet begun to bitch.

Just spit it out, already!

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