Here Are The Reasons I Hate Wearing Heels

I have never liked wearing heels.  Even on my wedding day,  I had big plans for some comfortable tennis shoes or flats of some sort…although those plans were quickly thwarted through the combined efforts of my tailor and my mother.  After hearing that I was going to wear tennis shoes under my fancy wedding dress, the tailor exclaimed, “No! No! No!  You are short!  No!” and basically shamed me into picking out the tiniest heels I could find.  (This was the same tailor who, after seeing me in the dress before any alterations, frowned at the gaping material around my minuscule chest, before exclaiming, “Oh, we can fix that!” and grabbing what can only described as two pieces of raw chicken with which to stuff my bra.  It was awesome.)

So, in essence, me and heels?  Not friends.  More like enemies.  Here are the reasons:

1)  Heels hurt.  This is common knowledge, and people are usually all, “sometimes you have to suffer for beauty” but you know what?  I don’t really think this.  I don’t like to strap little torture devices to my feet in the name of beauty.
2)  I like being short.  People assume that I wish I was taller – this is not true.  I feel weird when people are shorter than me, and somewhat like a gigantor.  I don’t like this feeling.
3)  I can’t walk in heels.  I look like a little kid playing dress-up.  People make fun of me.  It is all around embarrasing.
4)  My feet are so tiny that heels make my legs kind of look like there is no end.  Like all I have is a stump with a tiny shoe attached to it.  Not really that cute.

I Love Cake

Due to the proximity of my soul-draining cubicle to all the manager’s offices, I am often privy to conversation carried out (loudly) on speaker phone all around me.  Being insanely nosy, I typically tune into a number of different phone calls throughout the day.  Most of the time they are boring and annoying, but sometimes!  I find out all sorts of good office gossip/private information.  I rationalize myself by figuring that if the conversations really WERE private, they would actually shut their office door (a feature not offered to us cubicle dwellers) and/or actually pick up their phone receiver.  A lot of the time, the phone conversations taking place around me are between my (all male) managers and their children (of various ages).  These are my favorites due to the hilarious nature of children, and remind me of the many phone calls I used to make to my dad back in the day.  Today, after listening to one of my managers argue with his seven-year-old son about the possible whereabouts of his mother (Dad – “Where is your mom?”  Son – “She’s not home.”  Dad – “Did you EVEN look for her!”  Son “…No…Oh, here she is!”), I was reminded of a specific conversation between my dad’s assistant (known as a secretary back then) and myself.

It was my mom’s birthday.  I guess I was about 6-8 years old.  Being the perfect daughter that I am (and was), I for some unknown reason thought to call my dad and tell him to bring a cake home for mom’s birthday (actually, the reason is known – I wanted cake.)  However, when I dialed my dad’s office number, his secretary informed me that he was busy in meetings.  Being oh-so-mature, I left a message for my dad to purchase a cake on his way home for work and hung up the phone.  I sat there for a second and began to worry about exactly what kind of cake my dad was going to bring home.  Those of you who know me, know that I take cake VERY seriously.  I once threw a mini-tantrum at work when someone chose CARROT CAKE for cake-day (RIP.  Thanks, Recession.  Thanks a lot.) instead of the Kristi Suggested (and way more delicious) strawberry cake.  What if my dad brought home carrot cake or some other below average cake flavor?  What if he brought home WHITE SHEET CAKE!?  That’s the WORST flavor of cake ever created!!

So, I planned what I believed was the fail-safe solution.  I picked up the phone and called my dad’s secretary back.  I let her know that I needed to add something to my dad’s message.  After waiting for her to get the sheet ready, I added, “Also, Mom told me that she really wants chocolate cake with chocolate icing and neopolitan ice cream.”  Unfortunately, the scheming of a 6-year old is never quite as sneaky as the kid thinks it is.  Shirley (dad’s secretary) immediately called me out on my plan, “Kristi,” she asked me (patronizingly, although I didn’t know that word at the time), “Does your mom want chocolate cake or do you?”  Immediately embarrassed, I responded with a quick, “Yes!  That’s her favorite!  She loves chocolate!”  and hung up the phone without one more word.  I spent all day worried that my selfishness would be revealed and my dad would bring home a disgusting cake flavor.  BUT!  He brought home chocolate cake!  He even brought home the most delicious ice cream flavor, neopolitan!  However….I was never able to look Shirley in the eyes again.

A small trade-off.

Where I Reveal The Fact That I Am A Bad Person

A couple of Saturdays ago, Blake and I returned back to our apartment after an exciting night on the town (which was ending at the grand hour of 9:30.  We are getting old).   We walked loudly to our elevator while we sang some random song (normal, for us) when we both heard banging.  We both froze and stared at each other.  We heard more banging and then the elevator alarm.

This is where Blake and I discovered our inner-evilness.

Seemingly at the same time, Blake and I came to the conclusion that there was someone trapped in the elevator and also that any sort of “help” would involve us spending some of our precious time waiting for the fire department and answering any questions they might have.  Neither one of us said one word as Blake mouthed, “What should we do?”  On the same wave length, I mouthed back to him, “I don’t know.  Should we call the fire department?  Or should we walk quietly the other way.”  We both laughed (silently, as not to alert the trapped people in the elevator of our presence), and dared one another to be the first person to walk away.

The people in the elevator continued yelling, “Hey!  We are trapped in here!  We don’t have our cell phones!  Can you help us?”

Finally, after too long of a pause, I sighed, said a mental good-bye to the episodes of Freaks and Geeks I was about to enjoy and responded, “Yeah, we are down here.  Would you like us to call the fire department?”

New Year’s Resolutions

I have never been really big on making New Year’s resolutions, which is actually kind of surprising given my affinity for making goals for myself.  I think this is probably because I tend to spend New Year’s Day in some various stage of “hungover” where I can think of nothing that I would rather due less than come up with year-long goals when my current minute-long goal is to not vomit.

However, this year there seemed to be a lot of talk about resolutions or plans for the upcoming year.  Actually, to be specific, there was a lot of talk about plans for the upcoming decade.  I, for one, cannot think in decade lengths because I was 15 last decade!  I couldn’t even drive!  Next decade I will be 35!  THAT’S OLD!  I will probably have kids and an actual house and have everything figured out by then!  No way could I come up with some sort of goal to start now and finish when I have dentures! (that was a joke!!)  But, I can plan for a year.  So I made some resolutions.  Being me, mine tend to be very defined.  For example, if I went with the typical, “Be nicer to people” plan, mine would be something more like, “Be nicer to at least 5 people per week.”

Therefore, I would like to present to you my list:

1)  Read at least 1 book a week.
This resolution is a direct knock-off of one of Blake’s friends, Andrew Polk.  Polk was the leader in the conversations about his plans for the next decade, listing an impressive amount of things he wanted to accomplish – including receiving his PHD, owning a business, owning a bar (different from the business), and the most impossible seeming of all – reading 2 books a week for the entire decade.  Now, you might look at the first two goals on that list and fixate on those as impossible, but for those of us in the room when these goals were announced, it was the last one that really gave us trouble.  TWO BOOKS A WEEK FOR TEN YEARS!?   That is a LOT of books.  Especially when considering the other things he wants to do (most of which aren’t listed.)  However, I liked the spirit of the resolution, so I decided to copy it for my own, albeit toned down to something I think I personally could and would want to accomplish.

2)  Attend yoga classes at least twice per week
My father is one of the least flexible people I have ever met.  This is probably mostly due to his age, but it is a running joke between David (my brother) and I, that dad has to turn completely around in order to see something more than 45 degrees to either direction.  His neck just can’t go that far!  I seem to have inherited my dad’s lack of flexibility, which is only getting worse as I slowly march towards 30.  Seeing as I would like to always be able to look at things next to me by moving only my neck rather than my entire body, I have decided that yoga is the path for me.  My first few classes have been maybe a little embarrassing, with the teacher coming over to help me into poses, only to have me gasp with alarm, “my body doesn’t move in that direction!  my body doesn’t move in that direction!” but I am determined to stick with it.  I might actually try to join an actual yoga studio, where I can really be embarrassed about my limited range of motion next to people who actually know what they are doing and are willing to pay loads of money in order to do it.

3)  Blog a minimum of 3 times per week
Look at me!  I have been doing this one!!  Like everything I do, I started off VERY dedicated with the whole blogging thing back when Blake first created this little website of mine.  For a while, I had a post every day!  I have no idea how I came up with things to write about, but I did!  However, also like everything I do, my interest in blogging soon dissipated.  I ran out of things to write about.  I started knitting more.  I opened an etsy store and allowed myself to become completely OBSESSED with that for a few months.  I began working out like a crazy person thanks to the new scale I purchased.  I did just about everything else.  However, I like blogging.  I never wrote before, due to the fact that I mostly find myself annoying and I have an alarmingly sensitive “pretentiousness detector”, but now that I’ve been doing it for a few months – I enjoy it!

4)  Make Blake run or do some form of exercise at least 3 times per week

I understand that this resolution makes me look like some sort of domineering crazy person, and don’t you worry, I have already received my fair share of ridicule regarding this resolution of “mine.”  But the thing is, Blake has diabetes.  He needs a healthy heart!  I am way better at sticking to arbitrarily decided goals, and therefore, if this is my goal rather than Blake’s, it is more likely to be enforced.  And man am I an enforcer.  I have no mercy!  Therefore, into week 2, Blake has stuck with it!  So if you are going to make fun of me/call me a demanding, I will bite you (no really, I will).

All right people.  Those are my resolutions for 2010.  I will periodically update you on their progress (especially the book one), so get ready.

HAPPY SATURDAY!